


Innocence and Instinct

by madameHunterr



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed (Video Game), F/M, Fanfiction, Freeform, Language, Love, Romance, Sexuality/Nudity, Tragedy, Violence, altairxoc - Freeform, explicit content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madameHunterr/pseuds/madameHunterr
Summary: Married from young, they've grown to despise each other. But when it almost comes to an end, they realize things could change for the better. Can their love overpower their hatred? AltaïrxOC





	1. Loveless

“Aaliyah!” the young woman heard. She knew those voices, it was Farrah and Dania—her closest friends. She walked over to them quickly once her eyes found them.

“Hello, friends. How are you today?” she asked the two with a smile on her face.

“We are good.” Farrah answered.

“How are you on this day?” Dania asked in return.

“Not very good, to be completely honest.”

“Ah, Dania…I think she is with child.” Farrah said while nudging her friend with her elbow, eyes never leaving Aaliyah who was now choking on her own air while the two of them giggled.

“W-what?! No! _Never_!” the woman exclaimed.

“Sure, sure.” Farrah waved her off. “Tell me, have you and your husband been doing well in bed?”

“Farrah, you know that Altaïr and I are not intimate.”

“Then let me have him.” Dania smiled and winked at her friend.

“I thought you are fond of Kadar, Dania.” Aaliyah quirked her eyebrow mischievously at her friend, folding her arms.

“This is quite true…but he will never return this feeling I have. He does not even acknowledge me.”

“That is not true and you cannot be certain that he does not share those feelings as well, Dania. You have not even spoken to him about this matter.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Just approach him and confess your feelings, I guess. I am not good with these situations.” Aaliyah admitted.

“That is because you have already found your husband.” Farrah pointed out.

“It was an arranged wedding…” Aaliyah said sheepishly.

“But tell me, my dear Aaliyah, do you not love your husband?” Dania asked.

Aaliyah did not answer.

“Aaliyah, ever since you laid eyes upon Altaïr, you wished to be close with him. I would expect you to be happier with the man. You were so happy when you were betrothed to him.” Farrah reminded the young woman.

“He is not kind, Farrah…he is not what I expected him to be.”

“Yet you still love him immensely.” Dania commented.

“…I wish I could say no.” she almost whispered.

“But you do.” Farrah stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

“Yes…I do…”

* * *

 

“Altaïr, you are such a fool.” Malik said while scanning through the library of Masyaf Castle.

“What makes you say such a thing, Malik?” Altaïr asked in return. He was sitting on the floor against a bookcase, playing with his apple. He was complaining to his friend about his wife's incompetence.

“Can you not see that your wife cares for you?”

“She is worthless. I do not need her, and she hates me.”

“She does not. Need I remind you how many times you have told me that you want to sleep with her again?”

“Silence, Malik.” Altaïr growled.

“Suit yourself, Altaïr. But let me just tell you that one day, you will regret your decisions.”

“And why is that?” Altaïr asked, curious to know his best friend’s reason. Malik chuckled.

“Because you love her.”

“I do not love her.”

“Do not lie to me, Altaïr. It is written upon your face every time her name is mentioned. Fear not, my friend. Her heart is yours. It is what you choose to do with it that matters.”

“It has been nearly five years since we have been in bed. She refuses to sleep with me again.”

“Perhaps you should treat her better.”

“I will when she deserves to be, which is doubtful.”

“Just ask her. Stop sleeping with other women. It is unjust.”

“I will do as I please. I do not need her for intimacy.”

“Oh, but you do. You cannot get what you have with Aaliyah through other women. You loved the feeling of Aaliyah’s back arching to you as you held her and pleasured her, the sound of her moaning and begging for more of your touch. Remember telling me that? Does she know that you hold her in your arms at night when she is in a deep sleep?”

“No, she does not.” he answered quickly and bit into his apple.

“What about kissing her and telling her that you love her when she is in the same state? Does she know any of this?”

“No, she does not, Malik! Now be quiet!” Altaïr hissed, throwing the apple at his friend. Malik only chuckled.

“Just remember, Altaïr, that you wished her to be your wife the moment you laid eyes upon her; and you came to me crying with overwhelming joy when you found out she was indeed to be your wife.”

Altaïr growled and got up, walking away from his friend.

* * *

  _ **That night…  
** _

 

Altaïr walked up the stairs to his room with as much silence as possible. He could hear humming as he got closer and rolled his eyes.

_She is singing again…she has probably not even done her duties today…_

He peeped through the crack in the door to see her sitting on the bed in her night clothes, playing with his…

“My gauntlet!”

Aaliyah snapped her head up, holding the gauntlet to her chest.

“You took it!”

“No, I did not.” she said, still holding it closely.

“Then how did you get it?!” he yelled. He was getting rather furious already.

She held it out to show him, pointing to one of the plates, “I saw it laying on your desk and this part here looks like it needed fixing so I was only seeing how mu—”

Altaïr snatched it out of her hand and the said piece of decorated metal sliced her palm.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. Tears began to roll down her cheek. Altaïr felt a ting of guilt for being so harsh to her when she only wanted to help him. He then noticed that blood was running down her arm.

He reached for her hand but she yanked her hand away from him.

“Do not touch me!” she yelled, slapping his face with her good hand.

“It is your fault that you do not know how to leave what is not your property alone.”

“It is always my fault and it is never your own.”

She took off her clothing and he watched her intently as she dressed her naked body in different clothing. He would never get over the sight of her beautiful figure. Malik was right and he knew that. What he was getting from other meaningless women could never amount to what he felt for his wife.

“Where are you going?” Altaïr asked. He hated it when she walked away from him.

“Anywhere. Just away from _you_.”


	2. This Life

_** A few weeks later… ** _

“You are a poor excuse for a wife!” Altaïr blurted out. 

It wasn’t a good day, to say the least. Altaïr was supposed to ride out to Jerusalem, but Aaliyah had gotten in the way of that by failing to help him gather the necessities for the long trip to the great city due to being busy taking care of the duties she already had. 

“You can’t even be considered a ‘husband’.” she snarled back.

“Oh, really? I provide for you everything that you require to live. You live in one of the biggest homes in Masyaf, you ungrateful bitch.”

“Do you speak to Al Mualim or any of your brothers like that, Altaïr?”

“They deserve my respect.” he answered heartlessly. He had turned around, so he was unable to see the hurt in her eyes.

“And I do not?” she asked, speaking softly and almost to a whisper. He could hear the hurt he caused her in her voice.

“No, you do not. You are too immature and too incompetent. You cannot try to compare yourself to one of my brothers, do not even think about it. You hardly do your _simple_ tasks around this place and when you do, it is improper. You rather spend your time with your silly little friends than to be here and help with what you must. You are young and foolish, I understand that; but I am sure you could at least try to be a little more…bearable.”

“That is _very_ wrong,” she defended herself, “And you are not that much older than I.”

“Oh? How am I wrong?” he asked, ignoring the fact that he really was only a year older than her.

“You are not even here to see the work I do.” she started to explain.

“You mean _i_ _f_ you do your work?” he retorted, convinced she did nothing.

“I _do_ work, you arrogant ass. I clean our home, making sure it is in top shape. I clean the clothing. I clean _your_ stinky, sweaty clothing and fix it when it is mangled. I take care of your wounds because you are so careless. I make sure you have something to eat when you return home at the craziest hours—”

“And when I do come home at these ‘craziest’ hours, I would like to be greeted, which you fail to do as well.”

“I do not like you, Altaïr. Why would I purposely speak to you?”

“Out of respect to your husband, you insufferable woman!”

“ _I_ am insufferable? _You_ are the one that always has something to complain about every time I see you!”

“With a wife like you, why would I not complain?”

“You infuriate me.”

“I infuriate you, huh?”

“Yes, you are infuriating.” she stated once more, turning around to busy herself with something else than an argument.

“You are the one that cannot give me a child. _That_ is infuriating.”

That stopped her in her tracks. She blushed for a moment before turning around to face her husband again. “Since when did you want a child?! You hate children!”

“Since I decided that I must have a son to carry on my name.”

“You want me to carry your child for nine months, give birth to this child and raise him or her on my own, since you are never here? On top of this, having to clean this home, chase after the child in between my duties and _then_ have to deal with you as well? I am not giving you a child, Altaïr. Do not even think about touching me.”

“You do not have a choice, Aaliyah.”

“Touch me, Altaïr, and I _will_ kill you.”

“You cannot kill me! You are merely an agonizing brat. Out of _all_ the women in Masyaf, why _you_?!”

He knew exactly why. He was the most skilled student when they were growing up, and she was extremely competent, despite what he said. Any offspring representing their union would further the abilities of the Assassin line, and give the Assassins a better advantage over the Templars in the future.

She snarled at him and walked into the other room. He followed to continue the argument.

“Where are you going?”

“I am trying to get away from you, though it is apparent that is an impossibility.”

“You cannot end this discussion.”

“Why? Because I am a woma—“

“Because _I_ have the last say in _this_ home!” he started getting agonizingly annoyed with her lack of care for what he had to say. “Look at me!”

“Why? The presence of you is torture enough.”

“That is too bad for you, then.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re going to give me a son, Aaliyah.”

“No. I do not think so and I would say that I am sorry, but that would be an absolute lie.”

Altaïr pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“What now?”

“You.”

“What?”

“ You are  _ so…very… _ ”

“So very what?” she smiled at him.

“When I return.”

“When you return? From Jerusalem? What in the world are you talking about?”

“When I return, we start trying for a son.”

“NO!”

“YOU DO NOT HAVE A SAY IN THIS!”

“I wish I never married you!”

“You did not have much of a choice in that matter, either, so I do not know why you are still fighting with me.”

She stayed silent for a few moments. “You are right, Altaïr. Perhaps a son would be best—for the sake of the Assassins.”

He was taken back by her statement. Did she just _agree_ with him?

“Besides…we have not slept together in years. I miss that feeling…”

Altaïr blushed. Was she being serious?

She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, looking into his eyes. He pulled her closer, embracing her with one arm while entangling his fingers in her hair, kissing her neck and bringing the kisses closer to her lips. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, she pulled away. 

“Then again, I hate you.” she stated, walking away once more.

“Oh, no. You are _not_ going to play with me like that.” he said, still standing there. She laughed. 

“Aaliyah!”  he growled out.

“What?”

“Get undressed and get in that bed. _Now_.”

“No.”

He growled. He wanted her at that moment. There must have been a way to get her to cooperate with him. He’d completely forgotten about his mission. He followed her to the next room over that she was in now. “Aaliyah…” he said, standing behind her. 

The silkiness in his voice sent a chill down her spine. But no, she must _not_ give in. She turned around, looking into his golden eyes as she placed a hand on his chest. “Remember those nights when we first married?”

“Yes…” he said, sucking in a breath and holding it.

“Good, because that is all you will _ever_ get from me. Now go away, you have work to do and so do I.” she said, walking toward the bathing room. She was walking anywhere she could, just trying to get away from him, trying to resist stripping him of his clothing and pushing him on to the bed. Maybe not even the bed, anywhere would do.

He snarled at her. “I still have no child from those nights, and it is _your_ fault. You must be barren.”

“I am _not_ barren!”

“How do you know?” he asked. 

She didn’t answer for several moments, “I just know.”

“ _ How do you know?! _ ”

“I do not know! But to be barren makes me useless, I do not want to believe myself to be useless.”

“You already are.”

“As are you. If anything, I have more use than you do. You and your egotistical disposition. You come home tattered and torn and I am the one who tends to your wounds. I am sure you fail most missions. Not including being a paper boy, of course. It would just be sad if you could not complete even that. Unless you—”

He grabbed her and pushed her down on to the bed harshly, unsheathing his hidden blade and pressing it to her throat. She saw the rage in his eyes and he saw the fear in hers. She had never seen him like this before and she was truly frightened. She hadn't a single doubt in her mind that her life was going to end at that very moment. 

“ _ How dare you speak to me in that manner!  _ _ How dare you insult any task of an Assassin! Y _ _ ou will learn your place in this home, this marriage…and this life. _ ”  he snarled furiously.

She said nothing. 

Altaïr removed himself from her, his blade falling back into place and walked out of the bedroom. He wasted no time in gathering his remaining items and riding out to Jerusalem as he was supposed to.

She lied there still, tears flowing from her eyes. 


	3. Contemplation

_** Jerusalem... ** _

Altaïr walked through the streets of the beautiful city that was Jerusalem. He was on his way to see the Rafiq of the Assassin Bureau in this city. He would have to collect a variety of information before getting permission to carry out his assignment. Until then, he took in the sight of everything he could—before his mind continued to wander to what he’d done to Aaliyah. He didn’t mean to get so angry, but his emotions had gotten the better of him. That wasn’t good for any Assassin. They were trained to be apathetic; cold and calculated. Not getting so angered to the point that they have a blade on their wives’ throats. 

He wanted to return to her. To embrace her and tell her that he was sorry. To tell her that he loved her and appreciated her. He didn't know why he acted the way he did around her and he knew he shouldn't. Perhaps it was the fact that her skills were not in the tasks of a housewife. She was logical and tactful. Her skills were of planning, not cleaning. She wanted to be an Assassin as well, but women were not permitted into the Brotherhood. Perhaps he was guilty. Guilty of sleeping with countless women on his journeys, rather than wooing and making love to his wife. He was madly in love with Aaliyah, he fell in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her when they were children. God forbid he saw her speaking with a man that wasn't Malik, Kadar or Al Mualim. He would try to fix it all when he returned. For now, his mission was of utmost importance. 

“Altaïr, it has been long.” the Rafiq greeted him. 

“It has.”

“How has the life of marriage fared for you? Is there a child as yet?” he old man asked, quill in hand as he was writing, perhaps tending to the ledger.

“That is none of your concern.” Altaïr spat. He would only speak with Malik of such things. He wish he could do just that with a drink of wine. To tell him his troubles. To confess what he had done to his wife. Malik was the only person that knew Altaïr's deepest desires and regrets. 

“I have received word of your task. Do you have all the answers you seek for this man?”

Altaïr snapped out of his thoughts, quickly processing what the Rafiq asked. “I do not, I will search for them. Is there any information that may aid me?” 

“The man you are looking for lies within this part of Jerusalem. He has been targeting the marketers.”

“Thank you.” Altaïr said, giving a bow and leaving.

Altaïr walked amongst the crowd, unseen and unfaltered. He started with slipping a few coin to a monk, bribing him for information. He did as he must for information he needed, all the while thinking about his wife at home. His previous actions were haunting him, and he could only hope that he would remember what lips told his ears for his Assassination.

After gathering the information necessary, he returned to the Bureau, speaking with the Rafiq for permission to proceed with his mission. He was given the Eagle's feather, and he moved to the chambers for some much needed rest. But sleep did not come to him. He wanted to be with Aaliyah. He wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her, wrap her arms around her and make love to her. What was becoming of him? Since when did she matter so much that she distracted him from anything?

Altaïr rose in the early morning. He arduously sat up, rubbing his eyes. He'd hardly gotten any sleep, perhaps only an hour or two. He moved to stand up, slouched and tired, and made his way to the fountain to wake himself up. He closed his eyes as he splashed the scoop of water onto his face, and once more, saw Aaliyah. He opened his eyes, and she was gone. He stood in place, closing them again and she reappeared. 

_ Can I not sleep again without her torturing my mind? _

Torture. Was it torture to him, truly? To see how she  how her body  straddled him while his hands rest ed on her hips, naked and moving against him  while deep inside of her ,  being  engulfed in the intimate pleasure he gave her? Yes, it was torture. He couldn't be with any of the women he knew in the city  since his arrival , his wife on his mind constantly. He got no sexual pleasure from this trip to Jerusalem, and intended on keeping it that way. It was torture to know that she was probably sitting at home, waiting for his return to drive some sharp weapon into his chest for his actions;  something he deserved more than anything . He only wanted to return and sweep her into his arms, carry her to their bed and make passionate love to her.  Make up for all of the years they'd lost in his arrogance and cruelty.  Or was it too late to rectify that?

* * *

 

He eyed down his target, focusing his senses to a glowing outline of the man who was about to lose his life. He walked blindly, unaware that the archers protecting him were now gone, lifelessly lying on to roofs above him. Altaïr watched around him as the man came closer before dropping down onto him, pushing his hidden blade through the man's throat. He watched as he struggled for breath, blood spewing out from the wound and through his lips. Blood jerked through the man's mouth as his last breath and Altaïr watched, emotionless. He placed his hand on the man's face, covering his eyes and gathering blood on the feather before running to evade the alerted guards; becoming one with the monks passing by. He continued to walk with them until he was sure that guards were no longer searching for him before making his way back to the Bureau.

“Altaïr! What news do you bring?” the Rafiq greeted him. 

“It is done.” he said simply in return, showing the bloodied feather as proof of the kill. 

“I see. Rest if you please.” the old man said, gesturing to the chambers. 

Altaïr  bowed and went into the chambers, fluffing up pillows but resting with his back against the wall. He  closed his eyes and  sat in contemplation, his wife never having left his mind. 

He kept going back to the  years he first  kne w  Aaliyah,  and he vividly remember the first time he saw her.  He was training with  Abbas and their Ustadh,  Labib, having caught a glimpse of her as she walked with her father toward Al Mualim in the castle. He had to look back again when he saw she looked at him. They were only children back then, but she was so beautiful to him. He was jolted from that moment as  Abbas struck him down, causing him irritation  for being distracted so easily . When he looked back, she was already gone. 

But that wasn't the last of them seeing each other. She tended to watch him train and sometimes would plea with  Labib to train with them. But women were not allowed to be in the Brotherhood. They were to become housewives, and bear children.

S ometimes, he caught her elsewhere,  secretly  practicing the moves she'd seen h im and  Abbas do in the training grounds. She was very good, despite using a  small  stick for a sword and not having anybody to train with.  He wanted to speak with her  and maybe train with her , but he found her so beautiful and intimidating.  At this point, she'd been living in Masyaf for almost a year. Still they never spoke a single word to each other. 

Abbas informed him that  her name was Aaliyah and  she was only one year younger than  Altaïr  was, making her  twelve years old .  Abbas told him that she asked about  Altaïr  multiple times. So she was curious about him as well. He smirked and  tried to hide his blush at that thought.  Yet, despite  Abbas pushing him to speak with her, he still couldn't bring himself to do it.


	4. Her Eyes

Altaïr  rose from his sleep as the morning sun shone in his eyes. He hadn't even realized that sleep finally came to him. He bid the Rafiq a good day, and left for his return to Masyaf. He needed to be with his wife, and he couldn't be with her soon enough.  He needed to get on his knees, and beg for forgiveness for all the wrong he'd done to her in their years of marriage.

He continued his thoughts on his journey back home, not skipping a beat in his memories with Aaliyah.  He remembered how difficult it was to speak to her. She captivated him, but he couldn't speak; as if her beauty had silenced his tongue and he could only stare in awe. He began to think that perhaps it was silly, to like a girl at such a young age when he should be training to be the best Assassin he could be. And so, he began to push her to the back of his mind, concentrating solely on his training. 

He was resting under a tree after training,  basking in the cooling air that the sunset brought with it, though the heat still emanated from the ground from the sun's brutality during the day. 

“You do  no t look at me anymore...” he suddenly heard. Startled, he looked up to see her. His heart felt like it had jumped into his throat. He'd finally gotten to see her up close. She was even more beautiful than he'd thought, now that he could see every distinct feature  o n her face. She was so different from all the other girls. She had green eyes, and pink lips. Her complexion was lighter than everyone else as well, despite being tanned from the desert sun. 

He sat, frozen and lost in her eyes. Did she speak to him? What had she said again? 

“I...”

“Have I wronged you in some way?”  she asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

“N-No.”

“ I am glad.” she smiled, turning to leave. 

“Wait!” he spoke up, lifting himself off of the ground to stand with her. She turned around, piercing him with those eyes once more. 

“I am  Altaïr.”

“ I know who you are.” she smiled sweetly, “ Altaïr  Ibn-La'Ahad. Son of Umar and Maud.”

He was taken aback by her knowledge of him, “How do you know of this?”

“Your friend,  Abbas . I asked him. Surely, you know of my inquiries. I do apologize for not speaking of these with you personally. I was wrong to do so.”

Nobody ever spoke of his parents to him  so openly before . His own father hadn't spoken of his mother, except once. She had died during his birth, and his father was murdered during the first siege of Masyaf just two years ago.

“ It is alright.”

“I must be on my way home, now. It is getting dark.” she said, smiling that same, inviting smile and turning around. 

“What is your name?” he asked her. He knew her name, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

She turned to face him again, “My name is Aaliyah Shamoun.”

“It is a beautiful name.”  Altaïr  complimented her. He hid his smirk as best as he could upon making her blush. 

“Safety and peace,  Altaïr.”  she said softly, turning to return home. 

“To you as well,”  he replied, then whisper ed to himself, “Aaliyah...”

* * *

 

“ Altaïr!  You return so soon?”  one of the guardsmen greeted him. 

“It is done. Where is the Master?”

“He is in the tower.”

Altaïr  bowed and continued on to the tower,  reaching his Master and  informing Al Mualim of the events in Jerusalem. Al Mualim inquired about  Altaïr,  that he could see his mind was elsewhere. He assured him that he was perfectly fine. He wanted the conversation to end so that he may return to his wife, but stayed as patient as possible. Soon enough, it was done and he was dismissed. He bowed to Al Mualim and made his way home  in a hurry . 

He opened the door, closing it behind him and look ing around.  “Aaliyah?”  he called out. There was no answer. He moved to the upper portion of their home, thinking that perhaps she was in the bath. “Aaliyah!” he called again, but still nothing. No humming, and no Aaliyah. 

_ Perhaps she is with her friends... _

He tracked down Farrah and Dania, inquiring of his wife's whereabouts. They informed him that they hadn't seen her since he'd left for Jerusalem, thinking that she was perhaps ill. He began searching anywhere that he knew she could possibly be, even down near the pools of the waterfall. She was nowhere to be found. He became frantic, worried that something may have happened to her. Every area he knew she usually was, even the castle library or gardens. 

“She is gone.” he heard suddenly, turning to see Abbas. 

Altaïr stiffened, not eager to speak to Abbas of any troubles, “Who is?” 

“Your wife.”

“Gone where?”  Altaïr  spat.

“She left Masyaf. No doubt tired of your bickering, yes?” Abbas chuckled. 

“ Where is she?!”  Altaïr  yelled, grabbing his  jerkin.

“ I only saw her leave with a packed horse.”

“ Who knows of this?”

“ Master  Al Mualim, of course.”

Altaïr  rushed to the Master immediately, asking of his wife's location. He didn't know either. Aaliyah left, and she was out there, alone. He had to go after her. He was dismissed from Al Mualim, and hurriedly got on a horse to track her down. Where would he even start in his search? He focused his senses, picking up a trail of horse hooves. How helpful could that even be? So many people passed through the kingdom. He had to take his chances. One of these would have to be her horse.  He tenaciously followed her trail, hoping that he could come across her soon enough, but that was becoming less and less of a possibility. Was she cold  in her journey ? It seemed  that  she hadn't stopped to s et up camp anywhere. He continued on her path, leading him straight to Acre. 

Acre? What would she be doing in Acre? How had she known the way to the city in the first place? Unless she had taken a map from the castle library...

I t was early in the morning, the sun still making it's way into the skies. He followed to a high point, and did as she must have done. He scanned the area to see what she may have seen. 

_ The Bureau... _

It would seem that he greatly underestimated the skills his wife carried.  He made his way to the Bureau, dropping down into the main chambers.

* * *

 

“ Did you hear something?” the Rafiq asked. 

Aaliyah perked her head up, looking around the corner to see who it may be. 

_ No... _

She turned to the Rafiq, “Do not inform that man of my presence, please...”

“ Altaïr?  Why not, child?”

“Please,  just  do as I ask.” she pleaded as she hid out of his view, only hoping that he wasn't using that skill of his. 

“ Altaïr,”  the Rafiq greeted him, “What brings you to Acre? I did not receive word that you may arrive.”

“I search for a woman  by the name of Aaliyah . It is of utmost importance that I locate her. She comes from Masyaf. She is about  _ this _ tall,” he said, lifting his hand up to his lips, “She is absolutely beautiful. She has green eyes, and brown hair, almost golden in the sun's light.”

“I know not of her. What about this woman is of such urgency?”

Altaïr  sighed, “She is my wife.”

“ I was not aware that you were married.” the Rafiq spoke, gaining a nod from  Altaïr  in confirmation. “Why can you not find her, child?”

“That is none of your concern.” he said in a defensive tone. He calmed himself as much as possible, “If you see her, inform me at once.”

“Yes,  Altaïr.”

“ Thank you.” he said, giving a bow and leaving.

The Rafiq turned to her when she rose from hiding, “Would you like to explain yourself, child?”

“ Altaïr  is my husband.”  was all she said, and gathered her belongings.

“Why do you run?”

“I must go.”

“If you so wish. Be safe, my child.”

“I will be fine, Rafiq. Be well, and thank you for your hospitality.”  she bowed in respect and left.

* * *

 

Altaïr  spent hours searching for Aaliyah in Acre. He couldn't keep his senses focused long enough to make a track after spending so many hours doing so. The trail led to Acre, and she had to be somewhere. Perhaps he would return to the Bureau for a quick nap and then return to his search for her. 

He arose from his nap and began his search in the Rich District, unable to find anything. She hadn't even stepped into that area. It was apparent she had never  stepped foot into the Middle District either. The only trail he could now see was in the Poor District, and it was leading away from the Bureau and out of the city. Had the Rafiq known? He would speak with him another time. For now, he followed her. He kept her trail, remembering what made him fall in love with her in the first place.

* * *

 

_** [Flashback...] ** _

“No! You are not  defending yourself properly.”

“ Altaïr,  you are being so hard on me.” Aaliyah whined, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead.

“Aaliyah...do you not wish to train as I do?”

“ Of course  I do!  B ut can we just stop and rest for a moment? I beg of you.”  she pleaded, wrapping her arm around him.

He stiffened at her touch, but wrapped an arm around her nonetheless,  “ You are doing so well, perhaps better than even I...what has changed  this evening ?”

“I do not know.”

“Aaliyah...” he almost whispered, piercing through her with his beautiful amber eyes. 

“ Altaïr...”  she said softly,  her eyes moving to his lips for a second before returning them to his eyes , sucking in her breath when his hand tightened around her.

“ Is it your father's death?”  he asked cautiously.

She stayed silent,  looking away from him. She let go of him and walk ed away, her hand letting go of his last; to which he was unaware of even tangling his fingers with hers. He knew it. He turned around, watching her as she walked away. He followed, staying back and observing her. She walked all the way to the tree that she and her father used to relax under in the evenings as he gave her reading lessons.  She dropped to her knees and held her face in her hands.  Altaïr  knelt down behind her, cradling her in his arms. 

“It has been a whole year as of today...”

“I know.”

“I miss him so much,  Altaïr.”

“ I know.” he said, wrapping his arms more securely around her. 

“What am I to do...my home...it is so lonely, so empty.”

“I do not know what you can do...I wish I could do more to ease your grief.” he whispered, eyebrows furrowed. He had hoped that spending nights holding her in his arms could ease the pain, but she was not trained to narrow her emotions. He couldn't do that to her. He wanted her to feel freely, to live. He couldn't subject her to a life of emotional solitude as he had been training to. Apart from her, he had no emotions. He'd hardened  himself to his father's death, even witnessing Ahmad, Abbas' father, kill himself in his quarters.  She was his reminder that he was  _ alive _ .

“ My mother, gone from such an early age that I do not recall even her face in my memories...it is always a blur, should I remember. My father, taken from me because of a foolish decision.” she drifted off  and h e  continued to  h o ld her in  her  silence. Suddenly, she turned to him, her hands on either side of his face, “ Altaïr...”

“ Yes, Aaliyah?” he replied, looking deep into her eyes. 

“Promise me...that you will never do anything foolish in  _ any  _ mission you are given! Promise me that you will  _ never _ break any of the tenets!”

“Why do you ask me of such a thing?”

“I cannot bear to lose someone that I love again!”

Altaïr 's breath hitched in his throat. Did she just say that...she loves him?

“Aaliyah...”

“Please,  Altaïr.  I cannot lose you...I need you by my side...”

He held her hands in his, bringing them down and giving them a light squeeze. He lifted one hand to her face, looking deeply into her eyes, “I promise, Aaliyah...” he vowed before pressing his lips to hers. 


	5. No Brother Of Mine

Altaïr  began to wonder if he was even following the right person. He was using his senses, which always led him to his intended target. It was no enemy, perhaps that's what it was. Her movement throughout the  path was rather erratic, stopping every now and then, but continuing on. 

_ What if she is injured... _

Altaïr  encouraged the horse to fall into a fast run, eager to ensure his wife's safety. He could only hope that, if injured, she could survive until his arrival. 

But alas, he found himself at Jerusalem. He was only happy that she arrived safely. There was no sign of her being truly injured, but he needed to find her, and soon. He needed to bring her home and care for her like he had at the beginning. He should have never stopped.

I t was the same as before for  Altaïr.  He traced her to the Bureau and inquired of his wife. At least the Rafiq knew of who she was, but she was not there. He confirmed that she had been there, but left quickly after gathering some food and unnecessarily paid him coin for it.  The Rafiq assured  Altaïr  that Aaliyah had no injury whatsoever, and that brought him to so much ease. He did not want to re st , but  decided that relaxing for maybe an hour would be best so that he could follow her path vigorously.

* * *

 

Altaïr  couldn't help but smile as he remembered a time that  Aaliyah saved him during training. Abbas was h is best friend,  he even considered Abbas his brother .  B ut seeing  Abbas dwell on what  he thought was his father forsaking him,  hurt  Altaïr  immensely . He  spoke this to Aaliyah, and told her that perhaps he would tell Abbas the truth. Aaliyah considered that it was against Al Mualim's wishes, but if he felt so guilty of knowing this and leaving Abbas in the dark, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to tell the truth. 

Altaïr  did as such, but it did not go well at all. It was late at night, and  Altaïr  visited Abbas in his quarters. He explained that Ahmad, Abbas' father, was the cause of his own father's death. He explained that one night, Ahmad appeared in his quarters, and confessed to the events that lead to Umar's death, before driving a dagger into himself, collapsing onto the floor. 

Altaïr  told Abbas that he ran to Al Mualim, and told him of what had happened, and what Ahmad had said to him. Al Mualim told him that no one was to know of Ahmad's treachery, and so  Altaïr  stayed silent. He spared tell Abbas that Aaliyah knew of this, but apologized over and over again for not telling him sooner. 

Abbas only turned over in his bed, making not a single sound.  Altaïr  stood still for several moments before leaving after he realized that Abbas would say nothing. He returned to Aaliyah and told her of what had transpired, to which she assured him that everything would be okay, and  Abbas perhaps needed to process what  was spoken to him . 

The next day, however, proved wrong.  Altaïr  and Aaliyah arrived to his training, waiting for Abbas to make his appearance. Perhaps it was only ten minutes or so, but to them, it felt like hours.  Abbas finally arrived, walking right past  Altaïr  and Aaliyah.  He pulled Labib aside to speak, but the two couldn't hear what he said.  Labib walked to the armoury afterward, pulling two  _ real _ swords out.  Altaïr  looked to Aaliyah, who was still fixated on what was transpiring. 

She looked to Altaïr, hopping off of the banister of the training ring. She looked at him, eyebrows knitted, “Do _not_ give him leisure...”

“ Aaliyah—“

“ Altaïr.... _ don't. _ ”  was all she said before stepping aside. 

H e nodded, telling her words that could not be spoken  there . He wanted to believe that she understood and it seemed that she did, as she placed her hand above her heart.  He knew she loved him, and she knew he reciprocated those feelings.

He got into the ring, Abbas' eyes constantly on him. 

“How do you fare, Abbas?”  Altaïr  aske d, but his friend spoke nothing. 

They moved in a circular motion around the ring, “Why do you not speak, brother?”  Altaïr  asked. 

“I do not speak to traitors or liars!” Abbas spat. 

“You are upset about my confession.” 

“Your  mouth spills lies! ” Abbas roared, lunging forward unexpectedly.  Altaïr  blocked him just in time, rolling their swords enough to stand against Abbas again in the previous stance. 

“I do not lie,  brother!”  Altaïr  pleaded. 

“Stay your tongue!”  he demanded, swinging at  Altaïr  once more,  but he counter attacked .  They kept at this for several minutes.

“L abib , you cannot let this continue!” Aaliyah spoke to their Ustadh,  but he watched on, ignoring the young girl.

“ Abbas, I do not wish to fight this way with you.”  Altaïr  said, trying to calm his friend down. 

“You will die, traitor!” Abbas said, moving his sword to hit  Altaïr.  He defended, but  A bbas tricked him, moving his sword and slicing  Altaïr  in his leg. 

“Altaïr!”  Aaliyah screamed. 

He gave out a painful cry, staying his ground as much as he could through the pain. 

“Tell me why you  spew lies !” 

“I would not lie to you, brother!”  Altaïr  said, dropping his sword and putting his hands up in surrender. “I do not wish to fight you...”

Altaïr  sighed in relief, “I never meant to bring any pain to you—”

Abbas roared, lunging at  Altaïr  and pummeling him to the ground. 

“You are a liar! You are a traitor! You betrayed me! You are no brother of mine!” Abbas growled out, punching Altaïr in his face repeatedly.

Hitting the ground led  Altaïr  to become dizzy, and he was hardly able to fight back. 

“I lied! I confess, I lied!”  Altaïr  falsely admitted through his agony. 

“You will pay for your lies, traitor!”

“ _Enough!”_ Al Mualim shouted.  Altaïr  looked to see their Master standing above them, fury in his eyes. 

“ Altaïr...”  he heard, looking to see Aaliyah kneeling next to him.

“Aaliyah...”

“ Take them to the cells!” Al Mualim demanded. “You!” he spoke up, pointing to Labib, “What have you caused here!”

“ Master, he needs medical attention!”  Aaliyah pleaded.

“He will get the treatment necessary child, do not worry about him.” he reassured the girl. 

“I love you...” she whispered to him, wanting to place her lips against his, but knew she couldn't.

“ I love you.” he whispered in return before some Assassins picked him up and carried him off. Aaliyah stood up, hands covering her mouth as she approached Al Mualim. 

He wasn't sure what she'd spoken to him, but he assumed it was an inquiry of his well-being. 

It was a month before Altaïr and Aaliyah saw each other again. Al Mualim had punished both him and Abbas with equality. The only difference was that Abbas was to begin his training over again. A punishment fit to Al Mualim, due to Abbas' feelings overtaking him when he was being trained to silence his emotions. Altaïr's training, on the other hand, would continue on.

* * *

 

Altaïr  rose from his rest, grabbing a meal and continuing on his journey to find Aaliyah. Once again, her path led out of the city. Being such an impatient man, he found himself father calm in this endeavor. He just wanted to bring her home. He remembered the day he found about Aaliyah's betrothing to him, how he cried to Malik that he was the luckiest man alive to know that he was the one she would claim as her husband. Malik was very happy for him,  despite teasing the poor boy about his emotions.  Altaïr  swore Malik to secrecy of that encounter, and he truly hadn't told anyone.

His mind then drifted to the night of their wedding...

* * *

 

_** [ Flashback..] ** _

“Are you afraid?” Altaïr asked Aaliyah, standing with her in his quarters.

“Yes...”

“I am as well.”

“But, I am happy to be your wife.” she beamed softly, gazing into his eyes.

“I am happy to be your husband.” he said, caressing her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her soft lips gently and slowly, the kiss becoming more passionate with every second. 

“We are so young.” she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him again. 

“Yes, but do you not feel that this is right?” he asked, kissing her neck softly.

She took in a sharp breath, “I do, of course,” she pulled his head to look into his eyes once more, “I love you, Altaïr. I wish to be with you for all of my days.”

“I love you, and I wish the same with you, Aaliyah. We will make it so.” he reassured her, pressing his lips firmly to hers, wrapping his arms around his new wife.

She ran her fingers through his brown hair, tugging lightly as she felt his lips against her neck and collarbone as her other hand tugged on his clothing. 

He removed the sash around his neck, dropping it to the floor and began unbuttoning the top of his sherwani, revealing his fit upper body. 

She trailed her hands over his chest, her breathing picking up pace. She'd never seen him without so little clothing. He watched her intently, looking as her eyes and fingers trailed over the scars from his battle with Abbas. 

She looked back into his eyes, her own hands moving to remove her hijab and revealing her light brown hair. Altaïr reached over, undoing the bun her hair was tied in and let it down to fall. Her hair was much longer than he'd imagined it to be, reaching down to her waist. 

“You are so beautiful, Aaliyah.” he whispered, causing her to blush. He walked around her and began to undo her clothing, letting it fall to the floor around her as he kissed her neck and shoulders. She tilted her head, breathing deeply from the contact of his lips on her skin. He turned her around, eyes taking in every feature on her face before looking down at her naked body. She was absolutely perfect. He'd never seen a naked woman before, but he couldn't have been happier that she was the first he laid eyes on. Only his trousers remained. He took her by the hands, leading her to the bed and grabbed her, pressing her body to his as he hungrily kissed her lips, kissing her neck and collar bone. 

She could feel his erection through his trousers and she felt her uncertainty rising. But tonight, she would make love to her husband despite her fears. She had wanted him for long enough, and nothing was going to take this moment away from her. 

Altaïr slowly guided her to lie down on the bed, removing his trousers as he looked into her eyes. She tried to stay her eyes on his, but curiosity got the better of her and she looked down to see his manhood. He slowly climbed on top of her, running his fingers through her hair as he gazed into her eyes. “Are you afraid?” he asked her softly. 

“Yes, very much so.” she admitted. 

“I am as well.” he said, reassuring her that she wasn't alone in her feelings before gently pressing his lips to hers...


	6. Reality - Part I

Altaïr thought of what he might say when he finally found her, if he even managed to do so. How was a simple woman even evading an Assassin as skilled as he was? Then again, she truly was no ordinary woman—far from such. 

Would he apologize first? Would he grab her and kiss her first? He knew her capabilities and he knew she was a force to be reckoned with if she was crossed enough.

He felt as if he was losing his mind. He felt as if he should confess to his infidelity. She would probably murder him if he did. Her fighting capabilities were some to admire for being a petite woman like herself. Then again, it was his own doing for spending so many hours with her, helping her hone these skills in the first place. 

Altaïr knew that she was most likely going to make this difficult for him. She would most likely fight and if she didn't, she would probably bite him like she had done so many times during their fights, often drawing blood from his flesh. How he hated that.

What would she do when he found her? Would she run? God forbid she called the attention of guards. She'd get away if she did while he evaded the guards. A clever tactic, but she was nothing but clever. 

He remembered many times playing the “Assassination” game he and Aaliyah invented. Sometimes it was simply drawing situations and what would be the best way to go about getting the task completed. He couldn't help but admire at how she would assess each and every detail before deciding the best way for it to be done, and the best way to lose the heat of the guards on her trail. Sometimes, the game consisted of them hunting down each other, a great way to test their physical capabilities as well. 

He always thought that being an Assassin was for men and men alone, but the more he looked back on it, the more he realized that she was absolutely serious about wanting to participate and that she was absolutely eligible for such a role.

Altaïr brought his horse to a halt, bowing his head down in shame. There was never a reason to be unfaithful to his wife. He tried to think of what went through his mind in those moments, what drove him to truly commit the act. He had no excuse. Perhaps it was the lack of intimacy, as Aaliyah was so exhausted at the end of her day from her wifely duties. Eventually, they just stopped participating in the exercise. Perhaps this is what drove him into the arms of meaningless women on his missions. 

The guilt and shame began swallowing him. He may have to admit to what he had done. It may be the only way he could bring his own conscience to rest and fully regain Aaliyah's trust.

* * *

 

_** Damascus... ** _

Altaïr was exhausted. The only rest he'd really gotten on this journey to find Aaliyah was a few hours at the Bureau before he was off again. There were occasions where he stopped to let his horse rest, of course, but it wasn't for a long period of time and he didn't gather much sleep in those hours.

It was late at night when he arrived to Damascus, the desert wind chilly enough to hurry Altaïr to reach the Bureau. Once arriving at the building, he opened the barricade and stepped inside before closing it above him, dropping to the chamber floor. He looked around, but saw nothing; the Rafiq already stepping out for the night. 

“You search for me. Why?” Altaïr heard, turning around to see where the voice came from. 

“Sheath your blade.” she demanded of him. He hadn't even noticed that it was out of its resting place, but did as asked.

Upon taking a closer look at her, he noticed that the clothing she wore was...none that he'd ever seen. Yet, it carried the general idea of that an Assassin would be clad in; complete with the hood to obscure the face, but she had a slightly transparent cloth around her face. The outfit was a dark red, with gold trimming and the cloth over her nose and mouth were gold as well. There was a slit in the outfit where her thigh began. He wasn't sure how he felt about her running around in such revealing clothing, but he would discuss this with her another time. He was just glad to have finally found her. 


	7. Reality - Part II

“Aaliyah...”

“Altaïr...” she spoke softly, silence taking the both of them for a period of time. 

“I'm sorry.” he spoke up, trying to break the silence. 

She scoffed, a sort of skeptical expression on her face, “You? Sorry?”

“Do you remember the first time we saw each other?” he asked her. 

“Of course I do.” 

“Do you remember the first time we spoke.”

“You were resting under a tree after training.” she answered, unsure of where he was trying to take this conversation.

“Do you remember us training together in secrecy?”

“You were so hard on me, but I was adamant.” she was surprised that he remembered these things.

Altaïr stepped closer to her, “Do you remember our first kiss?”

“How could I ever forget such a thing...?” she replied, trying to stay her ground. 

“Do you remember saving me from Abbas?”

She giggled slightly, “I was so terrified that I was going to lose you. How I squealed like a small child that day.”

“Do you remember our wedding?”

“It was the happiest day of my life.” she spoke softly, a small smile forming upon her lips, seeming as if her thoughts drifted back to all those years ago.

He was close enough to put a hand on her cheek and he looked deep into her eyes, “Do you remember our first night together?”

“It was a night that I shall never forget...”

“Aaliyah...” he spoke gently, her eyes piercing through him as they always have. 

She gazed into his amber eyes, becoming lost in them. But no, she must stay strong. She removed his hand from her face, “Why do you pursue me?”

“I was foolish to treat you as I have. You deserve better than my harsh words. You deserve respect. You may be a lousy housewife, but you are a fine Assassin.”

“Altaïr...” she whispered, moved by his words. 

“I love you, Aaliyah. I need you by my side.”

“You love me because I have left you.” she almost growled, stepping away from him. 

“I have loved you since childhood.”

“You have not and you do not. You need not lie to me, Altaïr.” she spat, turning to walk into a different room in the Bureau. 

“I hold you at night.” he blurted out. 

She stopped in her tracks, turning to look at him once more, “What?”

“When you are in a deep sleep, I hold you in my arms. I kiss you, and whisper into your ear that I love you.”

She stayed silent, looking into his eyes, “Do you tell the other women that as well?”

Altaïr looked at her, dumbfounded, “What other women?” he asked, trying to play innocent. He thought telling her would have been a good idea, but upon being confronted of his unfaithfulness, he couldn't confess to it.

“I know of the others, Altaïr. I have known for quite some time. You need not hide them from me.” she spoke, her voice cracking. 

Altaïr lowered his head in shame, “How did you know?”

“I had followed you once...” she admitted, his head being lowered still made him unable to see her tears, but he could almost feel them. 

“Why would you do such a thing?” he asked, looking back up at her.

“I wanted to see an Assassination, but knew you would never take me.” she whispered. She held her face in her hands, suddenly bursting into tears. 

Altaïr wanted to hold her, but thought it best not to touch her at that moment. 

“I never followed you again!” she wailed, “I couldn't bear to see you with another woman again...”

Altaïr wrapped his arms around her and she sobbed into his jerkin, “I am sorry...I am so very sorry...” he whispered. 

“Why did you do it?” she asked, still crying as she wrapped her arms around him. 

“I do not know.”

“Am I not good enough for you?” she asked, still searching for his reason of such betrayal.

“You are more than good enough for me, Aaliyah. It is I that does not deserve you.”

“I am not!” she cried in his arms. 

“Aaliyah, you are not to blame for my own foolish actions.”

She stayed silent, crying in his arms for quite some time and he held her as long as she needed him to. 

“When did it start?” she asked after her sobbing calmed down a bit.

“I am unsure. Perhaps two or three years ago.” he confessed. 

She said nothing. 

“I have stopped, Aaliyah. It has been months since I have done anything as such.” he lied. 

“Have you?” she asked, her skepticism clear in her voice.

“Indeed, I have. I could not bring myself to commit such an act again.” he continued, “I have been thinking only of you. I know despite this, I have treated you dishonourably, but I want our lives to change. I do not wish for us to live with this hatred any longer.”

“How could we ever heal? How could I trust your word after all of this? You have hurt me so badly. You have broken my heart...” she contemplated, lifting her head to look into his eyes.

“You will have to take a leap of faith.” he whispered as he leaned his head down, pressing his lips to hers.

Her hands gripped his clothing, his own hands wrapping around her to keep her close. He continued placing soft kisses on her lips, the kisses slowly becoming deeper. Her arms made their way around his neck, holding him closely into the kiss. She had missed this feeling. She missed being in the security of his arms, the only time she ever felt invincible...yet she felt so vulnerable at the same time. 

His hands moved lower, gently caressing her hips and lower back as he slipped his tongue between her lips. Their tongues fought for dominance, but he let her win the battle. She began unbuckling the straps of his weapons, carelessly tossing them to the floor once they were loose enough and he made no protest in her decisions. 

She stopped and pulled away slightly and his eyes fell to her body, admiring her figure and her clothing. Seeing her in such provocative clothing sent chills up his spine, pushing the thoughts of her running around cities dressed like that. She untied the red sash adorning his abdomen, but didn't toss it to the side. Instead, she wrapped the ends around her hands and threw it over his neck, pulling him into another passionate kiss. 

He wrapped his arms around her as she pulled him closer, gently caressing her body as he began to search for a way to remove her clothing. She hummed as his hands gripped her, tugging at her clothes. Finally, he'd managed to undo one of her straps, revealing her breast. He massaged it, receiving a moan in return. He continued kissing her as he tried to undo the other strap with his free hand and before long, it too came loose. Her robes slid to the floor, her naked body being left in its wake. 

“You are so beautiful...” he whispered as he looked into her eyes before fiercely pressing his lips to hers, a fiery passion taking over him.

She let the sash fall away before she ran her fingers through his hair, kissing him tenderly as her other hand slowly made it's way lower, gripping his robes. She moved her other hand and began lifting the material upward, him helping to remove it and tossing it aside with his gear. Her eyes fell over his bare skin, admiring the rigid muscles across his torso, the firmness of his arms. Her fingers lightly traced over the scars he accumulated over the years, eyes gazing into his. He was a masterpiece. A perfect work of art that she was hardly ever allowed to touch, but never stopped adoring.

He shivered from her gentle touch, a caress that he was unworthy of. His eyes were locked on to hers as her fingers trailed lower down. He prepared himself as her fingers delicately untied the string tightening his trousers to his hips. He sucked in a breath as she slipped her hand into his pants, carefully and lovingly massaging his erection; never taking her eyes off of his. 

He pressed his lips into hers, coaxing her to the pillows as she stepped out of the robes around her feet. He laid her down against the cushions gently, his body resting between her legs perfectly as he wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him near. 

He motioned to get up and she let him, watching as he shed himself of his boots. He observed the expression on her face as he removed his trousers. A look of yearning—a look he didn't deserve to receive. She extended her hand out, an invitation for him. He knelt down, holding her hand gently, leaving tender kissing up along her arm, all the way to her neck before his lips finally met hers once more. 

“I love you, Altaïr.” she whispered to him as he wrapped one of his arms underneath her. 

“And I love you, Aaliyah.” he repaid her words. 

She cupped his face gently in her hands, her fingers slowly extending to the back of his neck and pulling him into a soft kiss as she felt his tip pressing against her opening. The kiss was broken from her gasp as he entered her slowly, bringing her into a new realm. A world of love and passion, friendship and comfort that was once deserted and left for dead only to be renewed and brought back to a lush garden, full of life and beauty as it once was. Her eyes fell to his before he pulled away more, pressing back into her. A moan escape her lips and she pulled at his soft, brown hair as he continued his motions. 

“Altaïr...” she breathed, moving her arm to wrap around his back, as if to cling on to reality and keep him as close to her as possible. Her other hand searched for his before he lifted his hand up to hers, entangling her fingers with his. 

But reality did not exist here. 'Reality' was Altaïr being away from home for days, only to come back and remind her of what a failure she was. That reality was not here. Only the man making love to her in the Bureau chambers; this side of the man that she hadn't seen in years, this man who ceased to exist in her world...he was her reality in this moment.

“Aaliyah...” he groaned, pushing into her harder with every move as he sucked on her nipple, tracing it with his tongue and massaging her other breast with his free hand. 

Her nails dug into his flesh, light tears falling away from her eyes. She looked into his eyes as he lied on top of her. He untangled his fingers with hers, raising it to her face to wipe the tears away, giving her a gentle and passionate kiss before hooking his hand around her leg, raising it up slightly. 

She gave out a blissful cry as he continued thrusting into her, her fingers pulling at his hair and scratching the skin on his back; a feeling he missed more than he realized. She was the only woman he ever pleasured this way. Making her cling on to him and cry, nails scratching against his flesh as if she were erratically trying to not completely slip off of a steep cliff and fall into an abyss of pleasure. He nestled his head in her neck, leaving gentle kisses and suckling on the tender flesh. His breathing was heavy and hot, her feeling as if it may burn her soft skin, but his breaths were no different from hers.

He stopped moving for a moment and she looked at him in confusion. He leant over and gave her a kiss before moving to lie down, pulling her on top of him without separation. She gave out a gasp as he moved before they settled in their new position, biting her lip as she looked at his naked body underneath her as she began moving back and forth against him. 

His hands found her hips, gripping them as she moved. His head fell back with a groan before his eyes returned to hers, watching her body move on top of him. 

Her moans became higher as she moved faster, tears falling from her eyes once more. His hands helped her move, pressing her down against him and he felt her grip him tightly. 

Her cry was loud and enjoyable to his ears as she finally slipped into her abyss, her body freezing and wanting to go limp from the pleasure. He flipped them over once more and began thrusting into her harshly. She screamed, but they were muffled by his hand covering her mouth so that no other would hear. He leant over to kiss her deeply, his tongue slipping past her lips as she tangled her fingers in his hair once more. 

“I love you...” she whispered against his heated lips through her shortened breaths.

“And I love you.” he whispered back, pressing his lips against hers firmly before sitting up. 

He put his finger to his lips, reminding her to be quiet before placing his hands on either side of her hips. His thrusts were deep, hard and fast. She never knew this kind of side of him in bed, but she was not complaining; she was covering her mouth, whimpering as he continuously heightened her pleasure. He watched her intently, biting his lip as her back gradually arched. He gained a form of satisfaction from seeing that her back arching was a way of him telling how close she was to another orgasm and from the looks of it, she was about to. 

He gripped her hips tighter and used all the strength he had in him to pump in and out of her as hard and fast as he could, only holding back enough to not hurt her too much and feeling himself near his own climax. Her hands moved to fall on top of his, nails pressing against the flesh of his hands as her back arched a final time, tightening around him once more and crying out, a numbness taking over her as she was enveloped by the ecstasy of another orgasm. 

He gave one last deep thrust before releasing himself into her, still feeling her tightly gripping him as if not wanting to let go. He leant over, wrapping his arms around her and kissed her soft, trembling lips repeatedly. 

“I have longed for your touch again for so many years...” Aaliyah whispered her confession to him through her erratic breaths. 

He moved to lie next to her, pulling her into his arms, “you will never go without it again, Habibi.” he promised her receiving a tender kiss from his wife. 

They settled into their rest, but Aaliyah did not sleep so soon. All she wanted was the love they shared to never die, but it did. It seemed that love had been made anew. But had it really? Where would they go from here? Would things return to how they were before? Would they be as they were before? Would they pick up where they had left off, or would they start over?

She smiled, wholly accepting that perhaps where she was now, being securely held in his arms, was her new reality. 


	8. Worthy

Aaliyah fluttered her eyes open, looking to see Altaïr's golden ones looking back. 

“Good morning.” she whispered, lifting her hand to gently hold his cheek. 

“Good morning.” he smiled, leaning in to kiss her. 

Her eyes widened and she began completely wrapping herself in the covering, “The Rafiq will be here at any moment!” 

Altaïr gave out an entertained chuckle, “He has already arrived, Habibi. I have informed him that you were sleeping and asked that you not be disturbed.” 

“That brings me some comfort. Thank you.” she smiled as she gave out a relieving sigh. 

“Would you like to return home?” Altaïr asked, wrapping his arms around her and nestling his head into her neck.

She lifted her hand up once more, running her fingers through his soft, brown hair, “Yes. Let us return to our home, Altaïr.” she agreed with another smile on her face before kissing him and getting up to replace her clothing. 

Altaïr watched her as she got dressed, enticed by the way her body moved as she dressed herself. His entertainment didn't last long, her getting dressed much more quickly than he would have liked and the clothing going in the wrong direction to his preference. 

They thanked the Rafiq and made their way to the stables, ensuring they had all they needed before heading back to their village.

* * *

 

The brutal desert sun beating down on them was a strain in itself, but they endured until it finally began dipping below the horizon until its inevitable return the following day. They thought it best to settle for the night despite the absence of the hot sun making it slightly easier to travel, but the cool chills of the night was a whole new difficulty in itself. Altaïr made a small fire after finding a hidden area for him and his wife while she prepared a light meal for them.

“Something troubles you.” Altaïr spoke to his wife as they ate together. 

“What brings you to this conclusion?” she asked, looking down at her apple, her thumb gently caressing the red skin. 

“You have been quiet for most of the day and you have barely eaten.” he stated, getting up and moving to sit next to her, “Speak of your thoughts.” he encouraged her. 

“If I were to be true to not only you, but myself as well, I think I am afraid that we will drift apart once more...” she admitted, keeping her head down and looking away from her husband. 

He placed his fingers on her chin, gently drawing her sights back to his eyes, “Habibti, we will not become what we once were again. I have lost you once, I cannot lose you again.” he reassured her, pressing his lips to hers softly.

* * *

 

Altaïr and Aaliyah's journey back to Masyaf ended in the afternoon of its third day, the two being summoned by Al Mualim immediately. They returned to their home so she may change her clothing, uninterested in him seeing her in such dress despite Altaïr giving her clothing to cover her chest area. He urged her to let him do the talking, as he knew Al Mualim much better than she did and what words to choose to not wake his temper. 

She complied, not wanting to speak to the man in the first place, but he was their Master and what he asks of any of them, he must receive. Upon reaching the man, however, it was Aaliyah he wished to speak to rather than Altaïr. 

“The word that has speak throughout Masyaf is that you fled Altaïr. Do these words lie, child?” he asked her. 

“I did not flee, Master. I just wanted to visit the cities after Altaïr spoke of their beauty.” she lied, watching him as he put his hands behind his back and walked toward the window, looking out. 

“You had not gone with Altaïr, then. Why is this?” he asked another question. 

“He spoke of his concern for my safety, so I had gone without him.”

“I see. How do the cities look, my child?”

“Words cannot describe how stunning they are, Master.” she spoke softly. 

“Yes, they are quite beautiful. I hope you two rest well from your journey.” he spoke, telling Aaliyah with his eyes alone that he knew she was lying. She looked away shamefully, but glad that she saved her husband from any harsh consequences for his mistreatment of her and the Creed.

“You handled yourself well, Habibti.” he complimented his wife as they walked down from the castle grounds. 

“I have been taught by the best.” she returned, looking into his eyes as they continued walking down the ramp. 

“Come, let us go to the waterfall before dark.” he suggested, taking her hand and leading her down to the threshold to climb down. 

“A wonderful idea.” she agreed as she followed her husbands lead. 

Once down, they made their way behind the waterfall to a pool of water that accumulated in a large dip there. It was well hidden, much to their liking to keep unwanted eyes off of them. He began undoing his gears, eyes never leaving his wife as she stripped herself of her clothing piece by piece and slipped into the cool water, hissing at the temperature. 

Altaïr snapped back to getting undressed himself and joined her quickly, holding her against him with him head nuzzled into her neck. 

“Aaliyah—”

“I love you.” she cut him off hastily, looking into his eyes when he lifted his head, “But I will not give you another chance after this if you deceive me again.” she spoke stern words, eyes never leaving his in hope that it would make her words more intense to him.

He stared into her eyes intently, taking in her words even though the moment had already passed. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before returning them to hers, “I will give you my own sword to slay me should I cause you pain again, Habibti.” he reassured her. 

“Very well.” she agreed, pulling him into a deep kiss.

* * *

 

_** A couple months later... ** _

She stood by the gate to the village, eagerly awaiting her husband's return. The guards suggested she wait within, but she was adamant to see her husband again. Soon enough, he rounded the corner on horseback, bringing her to a halt upon seeing his wife waiting at the gate for him. He dismounted, carrying the horse by the reins the rest of the way until she ran right into his arms. 

“I have missed you.” she cried into his robes. She knew it was his duty and he was highly skilled, but this didn't ease the anxiety of him being brought back home lifeless one day. 

“I have only been gone for two weeks, Habibi. Are you alright?” he asked, holding her face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the tears. 

“I am fine. I have just missed you immensely.” she reassured him. 

“Come, let us return home and relax. I could use some rest.” he smiled and she followed. 

O nce inside the home, she seemed nervous. He was curious to the sudden change in her demeanour, but spoke nothing of it. He washed himself off and quickly joined her in their bed, holding her close to him. She sunk into his arms, enjoying the feeling of his thumb lightly moving back and forth on her shoulder. 

“Altaïr...” she suddenly spoke up. 

“Yes, Habibti?” he answered, taking a deep breath as he immersed into his relaxation.

“I...I must tell you something...” she continued. 

“What is it?” he asked, trying to remain calm to ease her apprehension. 

“I-I...I am with child...” she stuttered out. 

Altaïr's eyes widened, shifting quickly to look at her, “What?”

“I...” she started, afraid to finish the sentence. She didn't feel that she was ready to have a child and was still accepting the news herself. She wasn't even sure if Altaïr wanted a child. 

“Aaliyah...” he almost whispered, lying back down to hold her to him tightly with his head nuzzled into her neck. She wrapped her arm around him and stayed in the moment. She was glad that he'd taken it so well rather than causing her any more anxiety. 

“Altaïr?” she called for his attention after some time. He moved his head, looking into her eyes. She was surprised to see tears coming from his eyes, causing her own eyes to tear up. “Why do you cry, Habibi?” she asked him, holding his face gently in her hands. 

“You are giving me something that I am not worthy of having.” he confessed. 

“Of course you are worthy of being a father.” she comforted him. 

“How am I? I have caused you and so many others immense pain. I have taken lives away from families. Why should I be granted a family of my own?”

“Are you saying that you do not wish to have a child?” she asked, 

“I do want a family with you. Of course, I do. I just feel so blessed to be given a second chance with you and now I am to be a father.” he smiled, giving her a soft kiss. 

“I do not feel ready for this, but we deserve to finally have a family after so many years.” she agreed. 

“We must prepare. We must have enough clothing and other necessities for the child.” he started, looking to her quickly, “We must extend our home for the child. I will arrange the construction to begin tomorrow.” he said, climbing out of the bed. 

“Altaïr, we are nowhere close to the child's arrival.” Aaliyah reminded him, amused by his sudden panic. “Come back to bed.” she requested, holding her arms out for her husband. 

He stood still for a moment before doing as told, holding her in his arms and kissing her before returning his sight to hers, “I love you, Aaliyah.” he said, caressing her cheek. 

“And I love you, Altaïr.” she smiled before kissing him. 


	9. New Hope

The first to hear of the news before any other tasks were dealt with the next morning was Al Mualim. The two gave him the news and the old man being surprised, but glad that his decision in their pairing had finally paid off. After all, the purpose of their union was for the brotherhood to gain the ultimate Assassin through their prodigious genes coming together in one child and perhaps more in the future.

Altaïr had arranged for the extension of the home to begin as soon as possible as well has paying a weaver to make a couple bassinets for the child, while Aaliyah gathered material to make the child's clothing and blankets. The essentials for childbirth and care would be purchased much closer to the child's arrival as the fresher the products were, the better. 

The expression on Malik's face once hearing that Altaïr, of all people, was to be a father was one that the Assassin would never forget. He congratulated his friend, nonetheless and wished him all the best in his new journey of starting a family with his wife. 

Farrah and Dania were so thrilled, tears had stung their eyes. Aaliyah was sure they must have thought they had some right to the child with how excited they were acting, but they were her best friends and would be the child's aunts. 

The parents-to-be were invited for dinner and of course Malik, Kadar, Farrah and Dania teased Aaliyah and Altaïr about her _finally_ giving the 'idiot' a child, but Aaliyah was too elated about her pregnancy to even have their words affect her, even if they were out of love. Altaïr, on the other hand, managed to switch the situation around and he took much delight in seeing Malik and Kadar's faces redden upon pressuring them into making Farrah and Dania their wives, respectively.

* * *

 

“Malik is fortunate.” Altaïr said as he stripped his clothing off to clean himself, “Farrah is a good cook.”

Aaliyah looked up from her sewing, “Are you saying that I cannot cook?” she asked, amused by her husband freezing in response. 

“You can cook, Habibti. I did not mean that you could not. I just meant that she is good as well.” he saved himself. 

Aaliyah giggled, “She is a much better cook than I, even I must admit that. I just hope that they marry soon. Farrah loves him dearly.”

“Malik is a fool, but he does love her and he will in time.” he added, dressing into his clothing for the night. 

“It is Dania that cannot cook.” Aaliyah said, bursting out in laughter from picturing said friend's face upon hearing such a thing.

“I have never tried Dania's cooking.” Altaïr admitted, enjoying his wife's laughter. 

“Oh, you do not want to!” Aaliyah gasped to add a dramatic effect. 

Altaïr raised an eyebrow, “Surely, it is not that bad.”

“I had tried her food once and had gotten quite ill.” she grimaced over the memory, putting the material down as her husband climbed into the bed, adjusting the cushions to his liking. 

“Well, I will never try her food, then.” he concluded, holding his arm out, beckoning for his wife, “Let us rest, Habibti.” 

She let his arms envelop her, letting a deep sigh out to help relax, “Yes, my feet feel rather sore this night.” she agreed. 

“Oh?” Altaïr asked, sitting back up. 

Aaliyah watched as he removed the blanket from himself and her feet, squeezing them gently. 

“We cannot have you feeling anything but exceptional, not with our child on the way.” he explained. 

She smiled at him, enjoying her feet being massaged, something that she didn't think her husband would ever do. Yes, it had been a few months since their reunion, but after so many years of living in hatred, it was hard to believe that the same man that was unfaithful to her and mistreated her would be giving her tender love and care, “You are so wonderful to me, Altaïr.” she commended him. 

“This is how I should have been treating you all along, Aaliyah.” he admitted, moving on to the next foot. 

“Promise that we will never change? That we will never...fall out of love?” she asked her husband. 

“It is I cannot understand how you had managed to still love me after the way I had treated you for all of these years, Aaliyah. I am perfectly happy with you being a true part of me life now. This is the way it was meant to be and it is the way it shall remain.” he reassured her, returning to her side and giving her a loving kiss. 

She adjusted herself into his arms until she was comfortable, kissing whatever part of his skin her lips could reach, “I love you, Altaïr.”

“And I love you, Aaliyah.” he returned, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

* * *

 

_** Several Months Later... ** _

Altaïr  sat outside of the room, listening to his wife's earsplitting cries as the doctor told her to 'push'. He couldn't imagine the pain she was going through and the guilt he felt for causing her this pain was getting to him.

“I cannot do this!” Aaliyah's muffled voice went through the walls. 

“You cannot give up on childbirth, Aaliyah.” Farrah reminded her. 

“I can and I will! The pain is too much!” she defied her friend and midwife. 

“You have just a couple more pushes to go, Aaliyah, stay with me!” the doctor encouraged her. 

“The sooner you do this, the sooner it will be over!” Farrah added. 

There was silence in the room and  Altaïr  stood up, ready to go in to ensure his wife was okay. He was halted by her deafening screams continuing and stood against the paralleled wall.

“Yes, yes! Just a little more, Aaliyah!” the doctor exclaimed. 

T he screaming stopped for a second or two before it continued for a shorter period of time as the doctor and Farrah were telling her that was enough. Silence filled the room and  Altaïr  stood outside, anxiety building up.  He was brought to much more ease upon hearing a baby's cry replacing the silence.  He  stood and waiting for a few minutes before deciding to  reach for the door handle, but was startled by the doctor opening it as well. 

“Altaïr.” the doctor stated happily. 

“What is it? Is she alright?” he asked nervously.

“Yes, she is fine. You may see her, now.” he permitted the young Assassin to enter the room and called Farrah out to give the new parents their time alone.

Altaïr wasted no time in moving to his wife's side, eyes on the baby in her arms setting from its cry. 

“Are you alright, Habibti?” he asked, kissing her forehead. 

“Yes, I am fine.” she said through exhausted breaths, “Altaïr.” she started, “This...this is our daughter...” she said through her heavy breathing, gesturing for her husband to hold his first child.

Altaïr scooped the little life into his arms, heart pounding and tears falling from the sight of such a beautiful creation that they made possible, “She is so beautiful, Aaliyah...” he said in astonishment. 

“She is very beautiful.” his wife agreed, “What shall we name her, Habibi?” she asked. 

Altaïr observed the little girl for several seconds as she slept in his arms, sniffling, “We shall name her Kamilah.”

“It is a beautiful name.” Aaliyah agreed. 

“Do y ou hear that?”  Altaïr  asked his daughter, “Your name will be Kamilah, my little piece of perfection...” he sniffled out, smiling and laughing, “Welcome, my precious daughter...”


	10. Little Flower

The little girl had her father's eyes, beautifully paired with her mother's hair. She was their little dream, their princess. Aaliyah had managed to make beautiful little dresses with flowery headbands to match. Altaïr had no qualms about this at all despite her standing out so much from the rest of the children in the village. Rather, he loved seeing his little girl waddling around in pretty outfits with tiny gardens on her head. 

S he was fascinated by everything and everyone,  not hesitant to meet new people. She was much too small to know of any form of potential danger and, as much as they loved her innocence, they couldn't allow her to grow up with such a vulnerable instinct.  Then again, these were her people. The only person they knew of that couldn't be trusted was Abbas. She was still so small, so they made a habit of always keeping an eye on the little, adventurous one. 

Altaïr  tried to stay with his daughter as much as he could, but that didn't change the fact that he was still an Assassin, one of the best, and had duties that needed to be taken care of— his heart being left with his family . He always brought back little souvenirs from the various cities he was tasked to for his wife and daughter, eventually having a display made for said items for everyone who entered their home to see them. 

He despised being so far away, for even brief periods of time.  To him, it was missing a large part of the crucial moments of his daughter's life and h e wasn't pleased with Kamilah growing up so fast,  either . He wanted time to slow down, stop if possible. He would rather his moments with family to stay as it were and his little girl stay the small, beautiful, innocent baby girl she was. Of course, time stood still for no soul and he loathed having to accept that Kamilah wouldn't always be so  small and fragile. 

Upon every return, he would get a scolding paired with the same lecture from Aaliyah for not being as careful as he should be—as he was trained to be, even for the smallest of scratches. That didn't stop him from making love to his beautiful wife to make up for all the lonely nights he'd spent in his travels. She advised her husband of getting some rest first but that, of course, changed rather quickly from the slightest loving and lustful touch from Altaïr.

A s she grew older, Kamilah stuck around her father all day when he returned home from his errands. Whether he was going for a walk or going to speak with Al Mualim of important matters, she was following him as quickly as her little legs could to take her. He enjoyed seeing her try so hard to be in his company, often picking her up to hold her and give her kisses, taking her with him to ease her little legs  from her struggle. 

Both  Altaïr  and Aaliyah were amazed at how quickly the little girl adapted her schedule to suit her father's.  It was still adorable to see how determined she was to spend time with her father, seemingly forgetting her mother upon the sight of  Altaïr . Aaliyah had no problem with that, of course. She often stood away slightly, capturing the moment to keep a clear memory of when everything settled for her and  Altaïr.  When everything was perfect.

Kamilah was  Altaïr 's world. So much so, that he'd completely forgotten that he wanted a son. His wants and desires only flooded with his wife and daughter. They meant everything to him and he made it his obligation that his wife and child would come to no harm. Nobody  would ever  be able to say the wrong thing  about his wife  or child without having the man getting in their face and sternly informing them it would be  in their  best  interest  to keep his wife's name out of their tongue's reach.

Seeing Altaïr with a little girl, who might as well have been stuck in a flower pot with how her mother dressed her, in his arms and hearing him call his wife 'Habibi' was still odd to the couples friends. Then again, it was much more odd for them to see him without Kamilah, as she was constantly in his presence. The only time she wasn't with him was when he was tasked to training students in the court—when he was not given a mission to another city, of course. She did wander over sometimes when Aaliyah was going into or leaving the castle, being picked up by her mother so she didn't get hurt and to let Altaïr concentrate on teaching the students. The way she singled out Altaïr amongst a crowd led the parents to believe that she did, in fact, have Eagle Vision like her father. Perhaps the Creed would begin accepting women and, if she had the same passion as her parents, would be one of the greatest Assassins, just like her father.

P erhaps she did have the passion her parents shared...

* * *

 

“No! Fayez, you are not gripping the blade properly! And you are not balancing yourself, Haydar! Have you learnt nothing from what I have spoken of?” Altaïr scolded his students, circling around them, “I have said this to you before, but for your sake, I will repeat it: keeping your body balanced determines how much movement and control you have in combat, and it determines if you will fall or counter and enemy's strike.” he lectured, positioning himself to show them, “One foot forward, but not too much. Bend the knee slightly an—” he stopped his sentence, eyes seeming to be locked on to something. 

“Ustadh (Teacher)?” Haydar called out. 

He straightened himself  without  answering his student , walking past them and exited the training ring.  The students turned around to see what he was so intrigued by only to see a toddler staring up at him. 

“Kamilah, what are you doing away from your mother?” their teacher asked the little girl in a loving tone, picking her up, “She will be worried should she find you gone.” 

They looked at one another, surprised to see him smiling and laughing with the little girl in his arms.  He was just scolding them for their training, and now he was laughing with a toddler in his arms. 

“Ustadh?” Fayez spoke up. 

“Yes?” he asked, looking over at them before his eyes returned to Kamilah. 

They left the ring to join the man and the little girl, “Who is this?” Haydar inquired about the toddler.

“This beautiful little girl here is my daughter, Kamilah.” he answered casually. 

“You have a daughter?” Fayez asked, the words not seeming to penetrate him the first time, “We did not know you had a child.”

“I do not infuse my personal life with the Creed.” he informed them, “I must return her to her mother at once. No doubt my wife will have my head should I keep Kamilah here and leave her to worry.”

“We have never seen your wife, Ustadh.” Haydar informed his teacher. 

“You have indeed seen her before. You were just unaware that she is my wife.” he corrected them, “Come, you will meet her this day.” he ordered his students to follow him. 

They entered the castle and walked up the grand staircase that adorned the center of the foyer, and through the immediate doorway that lead into the beautiful gardens. 

“Look what I have found, Aaliyah.” Altaïr called out, putting his daughter down to which she immediately waddled off. 

A beautiful woman looked up, her eyes widening upon seeing the toddler walk around, “I had not known she left the gardens!” she explained,  standing up and  scooping Kamilah into her arms. 

“It is alright, Habibi.” her husband brought her to ease, “She is indeed an Assassin at heart with such stealth already,” he entertained her with his thoughts, “I see you are enjoying the book I have suggested.” he commented, a finger pointing to the cover. 

“Yes, it is quite interesting. Thank you.” she smiled. The students froze when her eyes fell onto them, “You must be the two young novices Altaïr is training.” she acknowledged. 

“Yes, ma'am.” Haydar spoke up, forcing the other student to bow before the woman in respect. 

She laughed at this, not to ridicule them, but out of entertainment. She eased them with a smile,  “You must be Haydar.” she said to the boy, surprised at how she knew which one of them he was, “And you are Fayez?” she asked the other, who confirmed his name for her. “ I hope my husband is not being too harsh with your training.”  she said as she put Kamilah down to sit on the benches  despite knowing  that the  little girl wouldn't stay still. 

“It is necessary for us to be at our absolute best to represent the Creed, ma'am.” Haydar explained. 

“A beautiful answer,” she agreed, turning to her husband, “I see what you have been speaking of, Altaïr. Haydar is indeed like yourself in your youth.”

“I am still in my youth.” her husband defended with a wide smile, reminding her that he was only twenty-two.

“Yet you teach and scold them like an old man.” she came back with a mischievous smile upon her own lips. 

“I must return them to their training, Habibi.” Altaïr informed her.

She gave a nod, “I shall see you this evening,” she replied, sounding more of an order than a question. 

“Yes.” he confirmed, squeezing her hand before letting go, his focus turning to his daughter as he bent down, “and I shall see _you_ this evening as well, little one.” he said, tickling her sides before giving her a kiss on her forehead and standing back up. 

“Peace be upon you, boys.” Aaliyah told the students. 

“To you as well.” they returned and bowed in respect once more. She shook her head, an entertained smile appearing once more as they stumbled to follow their teacher back to the training grounds before her attention turned to her daughter. 

“Had you seen her before?” Haydar asked Fayez quietly as they walked behind Altaïr.

“I had. I did not know she was Ustadh's wife. She is beautiful!”

“She is like a rose.” Haydar agreed. 

“A rose that blossoms for one man alone and like every rose, she has her thorn.” Altaïr said without looking back at his students, lifting his hand up slightly and unsheathing the hidden blade before placing it back in hiding with another flick of the wrist. He continued walking, not hearing a peep out of them any further. A smirk came across his lips freely as his students couldn't see his expression from behind. He knew that Aaliyah was stunning and men will always find her so. He also knew that she would forever be his and his alone. 


	11. Growth

It must have been mere hours until the sun was expected to rise once more. Altaïr sluggishly entered his home, a scowl appearing on his face from the sheer fact of having to climb stairs to get to his bed. He made it up the short flight of stairs, quietly leaning over and kissing his wife's forehead. She stirred from her sleep, eyes fluttering open.

“A-Altaïr?” she slurred out in her sleep.

“It is me, Habibi.” he answered her, looking over to her as he removed his gears.

She propped herself up on her elbows, looking at him, “I thought you would return by tomorrow afternoon. Why have you arrived home so quickly?” she asked, the tone in her voice suspicious.

He felt a lecture coming on. He removed his robes first, turning to her, “I needed to be home again.” he explained, picking up the now lit lantern and making his way to clean himself up and tend to his wounds.

She got off of the bed, “You have not given yourself enough hours of sleep for your journey back, have you?” she asked, an eyebrow quirked as he put the lantern down.

He turned around, quickly wrapping his arms around her and pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes closed as she melted into his touch, fingers running over his smooth muscles. She pulled away suddenly, “You have been reckless again.” she stated rather than asked, forcing him to show her his side, where a small wound from a sword had sliced his skin.

He sighed, “I'm going to take care of it, you need not worry, Aaliyah.” he tried to ease her anxiety, “You can return to our bed and I will join you shortly.”

She glared at him, her hand shooting out to her side to point at a seat placed just for him when she tended to his wounds.

“Aaliyah—”

“ _Sit._ ” she ordered him, giving him a soft kiss and he did as told. She moved to retrieve the materials to treat the wound, turning back to see Altaïr's gaze. “You must be more careful when doing your tasks, Altaïr. I have told you this time and time again.” she began as she cleaned the cut, scrubbing the wound perhaps a bit too roughly, if she were to be honest with herself, but she was obviously disappointed in him for his negligence.

He winced from the pain, “If you rub much harder you will make the wound bigger." he said jokingly with a soft chuckle.

She pressed the material down into the wound, earning a painful hiss from her husband in return, “Perhaps the pain will help you remember to not be so reckless in the future.” she scolded him.

“I am aware, Habibi. I am sorry, but sometimes there are just too many to keep an eye on all of them.” he said, hissing to the sting the medication brought on contact.

“Yet you managed to stand victorious in the battle, anyway. You are more than capable of being careful, Altaïr.” she caught on to his attempt of avoiding a lecture, returning the supplies after bandaging the wound and deciding to spare him of it.

He stood up, moving around to see how well the bandaged was wrapped, forgetting about it when he saw his wife holding out her hand. He didn't hesitate to meet it with his own and she led him back to their bed, lying down and coaxing him on top of her.

“I have missed you, Altaïr.” she whispered, caressing his cheek with her thumb.

“It feels like an eternity when I am away from you and Kamilah.” he confessed, lowering his lips to hers for a brief kiss.

“Indeed, it does.” she agreed, “But you know we are always with you, within your heart.” she reminded him, a subtle smile forming on her lips as she placed her free hand on his chest.

“It is not the same as when you are in my arms, or when she is pulling on my robes.” he explained, running his fingers through her hair.

“It may not be your paradise,” she began, knowing of the promise he believed from Al Mualim, “but it is mine.” she admitted.

He pressed his lips to hers, deepening the kiss as his hand slid to hold her body from underneath. Her arms wrapped around him, running her fingers through his hair...

* * *

 

_**The Following Day...** _

“Kamilah.” Altaïr whispered out loud enough to grab the little one's attention.

She waddled up to him, reaching out to grab his robes, screaming in excitement, “Baba!”

He walked quickly around her as she kept turning to face him, becoming dizzy and falling to the floor. She studied on standing up again and by the time she did, he was nowhere in sight.

He stood crouched on the roof of their home, watching down on his daughter, love and adoration taking over his heart as he watched how she picked herself up, how her knees bent slightly as she stood, leaning over slightly as she regained her balance from her daze. He watched how her small fingers gripped onto her dress, not doing anything in particular as she looked down, perhaps at her feet before her other hand came up to ineffectively wipe her golden hair out of her face. His world was in that precious little girl, and he would do anything, give his life, if it meant she wouldn't be harmed.

She walked around in small circles, looking for him before feeling a tap on her shoulder, looking to see that nobody was there. She turned back around, being startled upon seeing her father's face right in front of her. She didn't hesitate to smack him in the face with as much force a two-year-old could possibly have.

“Ugh! Kamilah! I have been slain!” he choked out dramatically, falling to the floor, arm reaching out for her, “Kamilah, give 'Baba' a kiss before I am taken to Paradise!”

She stood still, looking at him before moving closer to lean down and give him a kiss, being pulled down and tickled mercilessly in the process. She screamed and laughed kicking her legs and thrashing her arms around as much as she could. Her scream was so high-pitched, it hurt Altaïr's ears, but he revelled in the sound of her laughter.

“Kamilah?!” Altaïr heard his wife calling out with panic clear in her voice, her quick footsteps approaching them.

He looked up at her, letting the little out of his grip and standing up, “She is well, Habibi.” he reassured her.

“You worried me.” she chuckled, moving to pick up their daughter, “It is way past her time to nap, Altaïr.” she brought to her husband's attention.

His eyes shifted away before returning to his wife's, no words to explain why Kamilah wasn't asleep.

“Well, it is too late for her to have a nap. She will will be up all night if she rests now.” Aaliyah finalized, putting the little girl down, watching as she immediately ran to pull on her father's robes. She sauntered over to her husband, linking her arm with his and giving him a soft kiss, “There is a matter we must speak of, Altaïr.” she informed him.

“What would that be, Habibi?” he asked, eyelids feeling heavy as he looked at her, an effect his wife had on him when she kissed him so lovingly.

“Let us go inside and I will explain, then.” she suggested, moving to head back into their home.

He picked up Kamilah and followed his wife. Upon entering their home, he set the little girl down, who immediately hurried off to entertain herself with the basket of toys nearby while he approached his wife, “What would you like to speak of, Habibi?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“Well, we must speak of expanding our home. I know it may be a difficult and lengthy process; not to mention, the cost of such an adjustment may be too much for us. Perhaps we can make an arrangement of paying little by little. I could make clothing and sell them for profit, or—”

“Aaliyah...” he cut her off, “Please, relax.” he said, kissing her temple before moving to the side slightly to see her face, “Tell me, why would we need to expand our home in the first place?”

“Our family is growing, Altaïr.” she informed him, “I am with child once more.” she let a soft smile take over her lips, hold his hand over her stomach.

“Habibi, this is wonderful!” he exclaimed, pressing his lips against hers, “I will arrange the construction at once. Perhaps they will allow us to pay in portions like you have suggested.”

“I could also make and sell clothing, Altaïr. I would certainly aid us.” she added her other idea.

“No,” he denied her, “You must rest. Our child cannot be well if you are not at your best condition.”

She knitted her eyebrows, frowning a bit, “But I will not be unwell from making clothing, Altaïr.” she whined.

He stayed silent in thought for a few seconds, “Perhaps, but do not overwork yourself. Do you understand?” he ordered her.

“Yes, I understand.” she smiled, kissing him.

“I will return soon.” he informed her before walking out to make the arrangements.


	12. We All Fall Down

_**Four Months Later...** _

The construction on the home was coming along beautifully. Altaïr and Aaliyah had the living area extended just a bit more as well, and they were now working on the extension on the upper floor. Aaliyah tended to spend her time in the gardens or the library with Kamilah to stay out of the way of the workers, especially for the sake of Kamilah wanting to walk around like the adventurous little girl that she was. Altaïr had his own tasks to deal with, of course, but he spent every second he could with his wife and daughter, taking care of them and spoiling them.

His best friend, Malik, was still baffled that the great, self-righteous Assassin not only had a child and another on the way, but that he was able to silence his emotions when it came to his duties as an Assassin and maintained the same chilled demeanour with other villagers in Masyaf he always had, yetshowed such affection toward his close friends and his family. He truly had mastered self preservation as an Assassin.

Altaïr and Aaliyah's friends were glad that the two worked out their relationship. It was astonishing how different they were now as a family, compared to when they would never be seen in public together, even walking past each other without a single word being exchanged between them. Now they were free to be the family they were meant to be and show their love for each other openly.

* * *

 

Altaïr was away in Acre for a couple of weeks, set to return by tomorrow's evening, and Aaliyah was realizing how difficult and tiring it was being this far into pregnancy and trying to care for a toddler at the same time. Kamilah wasn't overly disobedient, but it was the tasks of bathing her, dressing her and trying to get her to sleep that affected Aaliyah most. She wasn't sure how she was going to fair when her pregnancy advanced and her husband was called away to other cities, but she would have to find a way.

Aaliyah was in the gardens, teaching Kamilah how to read—an almost everyday occurrence for the past month. She was doing well, but seemed restless and Aaliyah decided that the little girl perhaps had enough for the day. She stood up, stretching her back. It was odd that she was getting pains already, but the other women said that every pregnancy was different. Some said she was even showing signs that the child would be a son. Al Mualim, of course, hoped it was, as that was the sole purpose of Altaïr and Aaliyah's union. She made her way into the castle to return to their home, Kamilah right behind her as usual.

All it took was a small moment of looking back to see if her daughter was following. Aaliyah lost her footing, her heart jumping into her throat as her body shot forward. She tried to reach for the railing, but it was too far away for her grasp. Every part of her body that came into contact with the stone steps were as if she were being brutally hit with a stone hammer. The pain surged through her body as she rolled down the steps, seemingly unstoppable, her head finally knocking hard on the stone floor that met the bottom of the stairs, promptly losing consciousness.

It was Malik who had heard the sounds of Aaliyah falling since he was close by, in the library as usual. He looked over the rail upon hearing it, seeing his Goddaughter kneeling beside her mother, trying to see her face and calling out to Aaliyah. His heart dropping immediately upon seeing his dear friend lying on her stomach at the bottom of the stairs.

He rushed down to Aaliyah's side, calling her name and hoping that she would respond, but she didn't. Panic wanted to rise within him, but he was trained to be emotionless when assessing situations and did his best to utilize it in this situation. But seeing one of his best friends in this state was too much for him to keep himself calm.

“I need a Doctor, _now_!” he exclaimed repeatedly, grabbing the attention of a former student of Altaïr's, Haydar.

“Is that—“

“There is no time! Just get the Doctor!” Malik cut him off, the boy rushing off to do as ordered.

“Aaliyah, please...” he begged his friend to wake up. He was afraid to touch her, not knowing what injuries she'd sustained from the fall.

The few, agonizing minutes of awaiting the Doctor's arrival was more than Malik could handle. He focused on calming Kamilah, who was becoming rowdy with every passing moment. Picking her up and hushing her as best as he could.

The Doctor arrived, Haydar and Fayez following closely behind him. He crouched down by Aaliyah's side taking a moment to examine her state, “I must turn her. Please, move away.” he ordered everyone, who immediately took a step back. Upon turning her over, there was a small pool of blood under her belly.

Malik's eyes widened, his hand moving to Kamilah's head to keep her from seeing while tears stung his eyes. There were so many questions to ask, but he didn't want to fluster the Doctor or prevent him from helping his dear friend.

“She is alive.” he reassured them all after a few moments of examining her further, “I must fetch something to carry her with. Please, I will not be long.” he informed them, rushing off as quickly as his elderly legs could carry him.

“Why is she bleeding?” Haydar asked aloud and looking to Malik, but only received the man shutting his eyes tightly and looking away.

“She is pregnant.” Malik stuttered out hesitantly.

“Will she be alright?” Fayez asked next.

Would she be? Would she recover from this? God forbid she passed and he had to tell his best friend upon his return. What could he possibly say at this moment to ease the tension? Words evaded him, so he stayed silent to Fayez's question.

The doctor returned, unfolding the makeshift stretcher, “Help me, someone.” he requested, gaining Haydar and Fayez's assistance instantly. They hoisted her on to the stretcher, moving around to lift it simultaneously and carry her to the Doctor's home.

“Perhaps you should take care of the child.” he advised Malik, “I will inform you of any upcoming news.” he reassured the man, gaining a hesitant nod in return.

Malik made his way to his friends' home with the now sleeping toddler, his mind only on Aaliyah. He wanted to help in any way he can, but he knew that caring for Kamilah was the best option for the time being.

He could only hope that she and the child would survive.


	13. Hope Lost

The eyes of the villagers were unnerving. Everybody that he passed stared at him intently, their hushed words amongst each other inaudible to his ears. He kept his head held high, marching on to his ho me and proving to them that their sights upon him had no effect;  that he was better than their disrespectful gossip . He opened the door to his home, only finding the workers still remodelling  the upstairs . He stayed out of their way  as best as he could  as he climbed the stairs and searched for his wife and child, but they weren't home. 

He made his way to the gardens next, but still no sight of his family. Aaliyah and Kamilah were usually in the gardens if not at the house— that is where Kamilah had done most of her studies . Perhaps they visited Malik and Farrah this afternoon. 

He wanted to scold the villagers for staring at him as they were, but he knew better than to verbally ill-treat his own and therefore kept his lips sealed as his feet carried him to the home of his friends.  He knocked on the wooden door, awaiting the answer of one of the married couple. 

F arrah had opened the door, Kamilah in her arms. 

“A- Altaïr...”  she stuttered out, eyes moving to the little girl who immediately reached out for her father. 

Altaïr  took his child in his arms, giving her a kiss on her cheek, “Safety and peace, Farrah.”

“To you as well, my friend...” she said, her voice shaky. 

He picked up on this, “Are you well?”

“Altaïr...Aaliyah is not here...” she admitted, her eyes filling with tears. 

“She is not? Had she some errand?” he asked. 

“She...I...”

“Farrah,” he grabbed her attention with a stern voice, his muscles tensing, “Where is my wife?”

“She is with the Doctor, Altaïr...”

“Why is Kamilah with you?” he asked, his tone softening in consideration that the young woman was a good friend of his and being harsh wouldn't help the situation. 

“My friend, perhaps you should go for yourself and see. My heart cannot voice...” she said, unable to finish her sentence as she lowered her head. 

Altaïr  felt his throat tighten from the prospect of something happening to his wife,  putting his daughter down, “Would you be able to watch her for a few more moments?” he asked her. 

“Of course.” she obliged, softly taking the little girl's arm to bring her back into the home.

“Thank you for watching Kamilah,” he told the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Be well.”

“As with you, my friend.” she said, closing her door gently after moving the little girl out of the way.

He  ran as quickly as he could, no longer caring about the unwanted attention he received from the villagers  as he ran up buildings, jumping from roof to roof in order to get to the Doctor as quickly as possibl e . Something was amiss with his wife and her health was all that mattered  at that moment.  He reached the Doctor's home within a few minutes, his heart pounding in his chest as he caught his breath for a couple seconds. He entered the building, looking around for the Doctor or his wife. 

A young man stepped out from some other part of the house, halting as he saw the Assassin, “ Altaïr.” 

“Where is my wife?” he asked, sparing the greetings.

“She is right this way,” he said, pointing from the direction he'd come from. He held his arm out as Altaïr moved to find Aaliyah, “You cannot go in without the Doctor saying so, Altaïr.” he informed the man, receiving a glare that seemed more of a threat than anything else, “I am sorry. I will tell him that you are here. Please, I will be only a moment.” he reassured the man, hurrying to do as he said. 

The few, silent seconds of waiting were those of agony and fear as he stood, unknowing of what news awaited him. Sure enough, the Doctor made his appearance and greeted the Assassin as his assistant had moments ago

“Come, child. Have a seat with me first.”

“I do not have the time to sit with you, I must see my wife.” Altaïr demanded through gritted teeth. 

“I must speak with you of your wife before I can allow you to see her, Altaïr. Now, please, come.” he said, taking a seat on the wooden stool, his arm resting on the table in front. 

Altaïr  took the seat to the right of the Doctor, crossing his arms in impatience. 

“Has anyone informed you of anything regarding Aaliyah?” 

“Only that she was here.” the young man huffed. 

“I see.” the old man said, stroking his beard, “Aaliyah had fallen down the steps in the castle coming from the gardens with your daughter two days ago.”

“What?!” Altaïr exclaimed, standing up immediately, his heart feeling as if it had jumped into his throat. 

“Altaïr, sit, child. You will see her soon.” the Doctor asked him, “Your daughter was not in her arms when she fell, thankfully.” 

“Yes.” he said, his tone urging the man to continue. 

“However, the child that she was carrying sustained too much injury upon the fall. I am sorry, Altaïr, but the child did not survive.” 

“I see...” he whispered, trying to control his emotions. But a man could only control his emotions so much, and the tears found his way through. 

“Aaliyah had broken a couple of her ribs upon the fall, luckily not puncturing any of her organs and her toe—though I do not see that being of much importance compared to the other injuries she sustained.”

“Is she...”

“She is alive and is recovering, but has not been able to stay awake for very long since she fell. Only for a couple minutes at a time to drink some water or medicine brew and then she becomes unconscious once more. This is not anything to be alarmed about when a person is healing from severe injuries.” the Doctor continued explaining. “She must stay here so I can watch over her as she recovers.”

“I understand.”

“You may see her now, child.” the Doctor told him, his arm extending as a gesture to proceed to the room where his wife slept.

Altaïr  moved slowly to the room, his heart sinking upon seeing Aaliyah sleeping on the cot. He knelt down by her side, his hand taking one of hers, “Habibti...”  he whispered, raising her hand to his lips. His tears stained her skin as the thought of their unborn child no longer growing inside of her. 

Would she have still fallen if he was there? He would have held her through the fall, or caught her and prevent it entirely. Their child would be alive if he were there that day. He failed to protect his family—the very vow he took to never let happen. 

“I am so sorry, Aaliyah...” he whispered through his sobs, “Forgive me for not protecting you...”


	14. Downfall

Her head was aching, every muscle in her body stiffened from the lack of movement. She lifted her head, eyes unable to focus and blurry vision. She sat up through the pain, forcing her arms to lift so she may rub her eyes to help her see.

She was in a cot, alone in a room that she was unfamiliar with. Her instinct told her to panic, but she knew better than that. Doing so would only cause her the inability to rationally think in her attempt to get out of wherever she may be, if she was even in Masyaf still. She had to get home, she had to get to her family. She exited the room, trying to be as light as possible on her feet as she possibly could, as her body was still in so much pain.

Upon walking out of the room and down the corridor, however, she realized that she was at the Doctor's home in Masyaf. She sighed in relief, stepping out of the door and making her way to her home.

The villagers were staring at her very oddly. Why were they looking at her this way? Was she inappropriately dressed? The entire village knew she disliked wearing her hijab and whenever she did wear it, it was just over her head even though it could easily fall off. She tried ignoring them and continued on to her home.

Upon entering, she didn't see her husband, but Farrah. Kamilah toddled up to her mother, grabbing a hold of Aaliyah's gown.

“Farrah? I was expecting to see Altaïr.” she giggled, closing the door and motioning to pick up Kamilah, but was unable to, “I am sorry, Kamilah. I do not have the strength to hold you, darling.” she apologized to her daughter, looking up to see Farrah staring at her wide-eyed.

“Why is everybody looking at me in such a manner?” Aaliyah asked in confusion and a hint of irritation in her tone.

“I am sorry, Aaliyah. I do not mean to stare at you so rudely.” her friend apologized, adverting her eyes.

“All is well, my friend, but do you know where my husband is?”

“He will be home in a moment. He had asked me to watch Kamilah for only a short while. He was summoned by Al Mualim.”

“I see. Well, I feel rather unclean, if I were to be honest with you. Do you mind if I wash?”

“Of course not, my friend. Please, take your time.” Farrah offered.

“Thank you.” Aaliyah said with a smile, making her way up the stairs.

It was much easier for her to make her way down the few steps from the Doctor's home than it was to go up the stairs in her home, but she managed nonetheless. Why was she in so much pain? She noticed her toe was bandaged and it hurt very much. Perhaps she had broken it, but when? She didn't remember bumping into anything or falling.

“Falling...very odd indeed. Have I fallen?” she asked herself as she rubbed the damp cloth against her belly. “You are coming along very nicely, my child.” she told the child growing within her, “Though I cannot help but notice that my stomach appears to be smaller...”

“It is smaller...” she heard her husband behind her, whipping her head around a bit too quickly, but in an instant, he was there to help her keep balance.

“Altaïr,” she greeted her husband, “I am glad to see you.” she expressed with a kiss, but despite the returned gesture, he stayed stone-faced or rather, there was a sadness in his eyes.

“You do not remember...” he whispered, his voice cracking for a moment. It was abnormal for Altaïr to show this much emotion so easily.

“Remember what, Habibi?” she asked, her hand finding his cheek.

He placed his hand over hers, looking into her eyes, “Falling...” he explained, grabbing her gown and helping her dress.

“So, I have fallen?” she asked, “I thought I might have, but I do not remember. My body feels like it has fallen.” she said in thought, not concentrating on her husband leading her to sit on their bed.

“Aaliyah...” he spoke softly, his hands on either side of her face, mustering up the courage to tell his wife such horrific news.

“When did I fall?”

“Nearly two weeks ago...”

“But why am I now hearing of this?” she asked in a rather demanding tone, an eyebrow peering up in confusion.

“You have been unconscious.” Altaïr explained, checking her head for the bruising.

“For two weeks? Where did I fall?” She continued her interrogation, slapping his hand away when he pressed on a sore area on her head.

“The grand staircase in the castle.” he answered through a nervous breath, “You were teaching Kamilah and on your way home, you tripped and fell down the stairs. Malik and a former student of mine were nearby. You were taken to the Doctor's home from there.”

“This fall took place two weeks ago?” She couldn't seem to grasp the fact that she had been unconscious for two weeks.

“Yes...”

“I see. It is very odd that I do not remember this fall.” she stated, still confusede, “Had I hit my head too hard?”

“Yes, very hard...”

She stayed silent in thought.

“Habibi...” Altaïr spoke, grabbing her attention. He took her hand in his, the other on her cheeck, “Everything will be alright, but...” he trailed off, hesitant to put her through such a reality.

“But what?” she asked, coaxing him to continue.

Tears formed in his eyes. Sucking in a breath, he forced himself to keep looking into her eyes, “When you fell...you lost the child that was within you...”

It took Aaliyah several moments for the words to truly sink in, “W-what?”

“You are no longer pregnant with our child, Habibi...”

“No...you are lying to me. I am still pregnant! I have _this!”_ She said, showing her stomach as proof that she was indeed still with child.

“Aaliyah, please...”

“How could you tell me such a horrible lie!”

“I would not lie to you of such a thing, Habibi. Please, I speak only the truth...”

“I could not have lost our child!” she cried out.

Altaïr stood, wrapping his arms around his wife to comfort her as she continued to cry into his robes.

“Our baby...” she managed through her tears.

“I am so sorry, Aaliyah...I am so sorry...”

* * *

 

Aaliyah stayed in the bed for many days, unmoving and overwhelmed with grief for the loss of their child. Everything was going so well and all it took was a simple misstep to forever alter their lives. Altaïr and Farrah switched between taking care of Kamilah, as Aaliyah was in no condition to.

He hated seeing his wife this way; her eyes void of happiness, only filled with pain. Would he have even been able to prevent such an expected fall? He sat against the wall on their bed, staring into the dark room, his mind elsewhere. He couldn't sleep and he didn't want to move out of fear that he would wake Aaliyah from her slumber.

When Aaliyah finally had the courage to get out of bed, she stayed within the home. She was ashamed to go outside, remembering the looks that the other villagers had given her. The look of everyone viewing her as an unfit mother, that she couldn't even protect her child that was still within her body. What would they think about her still having Kamilah? She began remembering the fall more and became very angry with herself, for what she allowed to happen; often slamming items down or randomly cursing before returning to her room and locking herself away.

Still, she knew that her little girl didn't need to see her in such a state and cried out of guilt. What if she had Kamilah in her arms when she fell rather than letting the toddler walk behind her? She could have lost both of her children because of her clumsiness.

She refused to see the Doctor when he requested checking on her wounds and Altaïr couldn't convince her otherwise. Still, she was grateful to have her family and her friends to support her. Farrah and Dania had eventually convinced her to leave the house, but didn't attempt to take her to the gardens again despite it being her favourite place. They knew at such a fragile stage in her recovery that it would just be too traumatizing for her.

The problem with living in such a small village is that nothing so serious is ever kept hidden and when people began making remarks to Aaliyah about the situation, Altaïr was often called to pry his wife off of whoever offended her and eventually, he had to force her to stay at home until she was able to accept that their child was lost and people knew about that.

That alone resulted in Altaïr and Aaliyah fighting a lot more, their friends becoming convinced that their paradise had been taken from them and that they would return to being cold toward each other once more.

Farrah and Dania often slept over when Altaïr was away on his missions to ease the stress of Aaliyah having to take care of Kamilah.

When Altaïr had returned from a mission in Jerusalem one day, he felt that something hadn't been right. It was almost like the same, unnerving feeling he had when he'd returned only to find out that his wife had fallen down the stairs. He wasted no time in returning to his home, bursting through the door and calling out for his wife. Farrah and Dania were still there and tried to calm him down when she was nowhere to be seen.

He began searching for his wife throughout the village, frantic that she might have gone and done something stupid, but upon reaching the gates at the end of his search, he realized that her horse was not at the stables. How hadn't he noticed that before?

He ordered one of the guardsmen to inform Al Mualim that he must leave and that he would return once he was able and to ask Farrah and Dania to watch Kamilah for while longer. He mounted his horse and took off toward the Kingdom. He would not rest until he found his wife.


	15. Tides of Change

All of the clues were leading to Jerusalem, but upon further inspection, he saw that she had turned around. He followed her tracks back to the crossroads, seeing that the hoofs led to Damascus and immediately forced his horse into a gallop to reach the city as quickly as possible.

A part of  Alta ï r cursed his wife for being so capable of evading Masyaf, the other part of him cursing himself for what he felt he might have done to cause her to flee once more. Why would she do such a thing? Was she running from the incident? Did she fear the fights were indicative of his unfaithfulness, like history repeating itself? How could she have left their daughter so easily? 

So many thoughts were running through his mind. He knew their friends were capable of taking care of his little girl, but he just couldn't understand why she would leave Kamilah behind like that. Perhaps her mind wasn't well. She had attacked multiple villagers for their words about the fall, it seemed that she was becoming more and more unstable and it frightened him that she was out there, alone and lost in her thoughts  at a turning point in their lives like this. 

He shouldn't have let her have the chance. He should have expected that she would try to flee if she fell under too much pressure just as before. But how could he have known? When they weren't fighting, she was silent to the point where Farrah and Dania didn't have a clue that she was planning to do such a thing again.

* * *

 

Upon arrival to Damascus, he left his horse at the stables and entered the city, not bothering to use his talents and immediately made his way to the Bureau, asking about his wife once again but the Rafiq informed him that he hadn't seen her. Not believing him,  Alta ï r  used his talents then to see if she was perhaps hiding within, but saw that there was no trace of her recently here. He thanked the Rafiq for his time and left, using his talents to find her trace, but she was nowhere to be found within the city. He left the gates and mounted his horse, again using his talents that were beginning to wear him down. 

He saw a glimpse of hoofs in the distance, going around the gates of Damascus and followed. She hadn't entered the city at all, but had went around  it and was heading somewhere else completely. 

He  wanted to  stop and  rest, but his worries kept him  from the idea of relaxation and therefore continued on to follow Aaliyah,  apologizing to his mare for not letting her have  a chance to  rest. 

H er tracks were leading him in a very odd direction and  Alta ï r  was surprised when he'd arrived to the ocean. There she was, having dropped her  hijab on the sand and was half way into the water. He smiled in relief. Perhaps she just needed a miracle and the ocean might have brought peace to her. 

He moved closer, staying quiet to not disturb her as he kept watching. The smile on his lips quickly faded as he realized that she wasn't standing in the water, but slowly moving out toward the deep. 

“Aaliyah...?” he called out as he unmounted his horse.

She turned around, tears staining her face. She continued to walk deeper into the water, her hands open to feel the liquid move around her flesh. 

“Aaliyah, no!” he yelled out, his legs carrying him as quickly as he could. Despite the water slowing him down, he was able to grab her just as she lowered herself into the water. 

“Let me go!” she screamed, kicking and pushing against him as he pulled her further away from the deep of the ocean. 

“You cannot swim, Aaliyah!”  he reminded her, her fighting against him causing them to fall onto the sand. She cried, pulling away from him and trying to return to the water. He realized then what her intention was, “Aaliyah!” he screamed, grabbing onto her once more and dragging her back out to their horses. 

“Let me be!” she screamed, “Leave me!” she cried out. 

He held her against him regardless of her fighting him and she eventually stopped resisting, her cries continuous, “Habibi...you cannot give up.” he told her, tears running from his eyes. If he'd stopped to rest, he would have lost her forever, “We still have Kamilah and we can always try again  when we are able .” 

“ No!” she cried, “I do not deserve children!”

“ Aaliyah, I love you. This is not the end. Think about Kamiliah, our beautiful daughter. She is waiting for you at home. She wants her mother.” he reminded her, “Think about her.” 

A aliyah fell into a painful cry, the guilt still eating her alive, “I cannot return...”

“ We  _ will _ get through this together, Aaliyah.” he reassured her, “We  _ can  _ do this, but I cannot do this alone. I need you. I cannot live without you.  Kamilah cannot live without you.” 

“ I should have been more careful!”  she cried. 

“There are many times that we fall, but do we not pick ourselves back up to continue? Have I taught you nothing?” he asked her. She spoke no words and he kissed her forehead before standing up, leaning to help her to her feet. 

He mounted his horse, his hand reaching out to her and she took hold of his, being pulled up into his arms. He moved around to gather the reins of her horse and led them away from the water.

* * *

 

He decided to stop over in Damascus once more, both of them needing good rest and the Rafiq offered them to stay for the night.

He held her against him, her cries bursting out every so often, but he let her have this moment to accept what had happened, being a silent comfort to her.

He was grateful that he didn't stop to rest as he intended, or she would have been gone by the time he'd arrived to her destined place. What would he have done if he couldn't save her? He couldn't swim himself and was lucky enough that he grabbed her in time. What would he tell Al Mualim, Malik and Kadar? How could he tell her best friends, Farrah and Dania, the young women who she spent most of her free time with—the only two that knew her nearly as well as he did—that she had taken her own life?

What would he have had to tell Kamilah? How could he explain to their daughter that her mother gave her life to the ocean?

Why had she decided to do such a thing? Was it the depression from losing their child? Did she feel guilty? What could have possibly made her decide to take her own life? Did she think that taking her life would rectify the loss of their unborn child? 

There were so many questions he wanted to ask her and if he were to be honest with his own feelings, he would be scolding her right now for choosing such a ridiculous choice in the matter of having an accidental miscarriage. 

But she didn't need to be berated for her decision. It seemed that she was tortured in her own mind as it was and only time would heal this deep of a wound. 

So, he stayed silent and let his robes capture her tears, shedding his own and wetting small parts of her thick, golden brown hair in the process. She wasn't the only one who lost something precious. The child was a part of both of them...a part of them that would be gone in this life forever, but would always remain alive in their hearts. 


	16. Stillness

The following day was spent with the couple walking around the beautiful city. They explored the bazaars, admiring the different items that had travelled from all over the world just to be in the same place with them. Aaliyah's eyes were very drawn to a beautiful, emerald coloured fabric, soft to the touch and Altaïr was more than happy to purchase the cloth for her. Surely, she would make a beautiful outfit with it, perhaps for Kamilah as well to match her.

They bought some fruit, bread and a small flask of wine to relax once returning to the bureau for the night. He wanted to ask her about the incident that occurred the day before, but he didn't want to take away the happiness he was seeing in her eyes after them being so void of anything but sorrow for so long.

“I enjoyed my time with you, Altaïr.” Aaliyah spoke softly as she leaned against her husband, the candlelight in the bureau being the only light, illuminating the room in a warm and comforting ambience, “Thank you.”

“I am glad to just see you smile once again, Habibti.” he replied, giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She looked up at him, her hand moving to cup his cheek lovingly. He moved closer to her, planting a kiss on her lips. It was the first kiss they had shared since the day she'd learnt of their loss. It was almost a foreign feeling to them, much like the first moment they had shared after years of despising each other. Despite this odd feeling, it was so familiar and so comforting.

His grasp on her tightened, pulling her closer to him, not wanting to let her go again. They continued to kiss as her hand softly moved to the side of his neck, caught in the passion that they were sharing.

They kept a steady pace as their clothing was shed piece by piece until it was just them once again; nothing to hold back their union, tears shedding as they both remembered their loss, but also tears of joy from missing the others' tender, loving caress.

* * *

 

The following day began early, Altaïr wanting to begin the journey back to Masyaf as it would be quite some time considering he wanted to enjoy the trip back home.

Aaliyah wasn't keen on returning home. The glares of the people in her village, the things that they'd spoken to her still haunted her memories. She knew Altaïr couldn't move out of the village and that she would have to come to terms with what had happened. She couldn't avoid the castle forever.

“Something troubles you,” Altaïr spoke as he secured the packs on his horse's saddle, “What is on your mind?” he asked his wife.

“I do not wish to return,” she admitted, “But I know you have your duties and I have my own.”

He walked up to her and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, his hand habitually caressing the small of her back, “Perhaps we shall bring Kamilah with us one day.” he spoke, looking into her green eyes for approval.

“I would love that, Altaïr.” she smiled, kissing him once again.

They gave their respects to the Rafiq and thanked him for the stay before leaving the bureau and heading out to the markets, buying food and refreshments for their journey back to Masyaf. It didn't take long to pack their saddles and they were off, the horses galloping north toward home.

They settled for the night, Aaliyah in his arms for warmth as they stayed close to the bonfire Altaïr made for them. It was a routine they'd made before, but in their silence was still the loss and pain that they spoke not of, as they didn't need to. Words weren't necessary for either of them to know what lied in their minds.

“We will be okay, Habibti.” Altaïr whispered in his wife's ear.

She choked on her silent tears, taking in a deep breath, “Yes, we will be.” she muttered out through her trembling lips, turning to him, “I need you, Altaïr,” she whispered, “Please...”

She didn't need to say more than that. Altaïr kissed her lips softly, the kisses becoming deeper and more passionate with every moment as he moved the skirt of her saari upward, lowering his trousers enough for them to make love.

* * *

 

They weren't far away from home, now. They would arrive to Masyaf perhaps by the day's evening. It was a journey that they enjoyed more than they had expected, considering the previous days' events.

However, this area was overflowing with Templar bands marching back and forth throughout the pathways. Altaïr and Aaliyah avoided them as much as they could, but there was no avoiding the imminent battle that was about to take place as one of them called out, “Assassin!”

There was no avoiding it with Altaïr's robes representing something that the Templars knew all too well. Altaïr pulled out his dagger, handing it to Aaliyah.

“I know you have never actually fought like this, Aaliyah, but you _must_ kill them! Do whatever it takes!” he told her as they dismounted their horses.

“I will do my best!” she agreed, turning her attention to one of the Templar soldiers, blade in hand and her memories from her years of training taking control. The man lunged at her, but she quickly dodged his attack, spinning around to drive the blade into the man's spine before removing it. She then grabbed him by the back of his clothing, moving her hand around to viciously slit the man's throat, his body going limp before she kicked him away from her after.

She continued the motions of dodging and attacking the Templars in their weakest points, as she couldn't take any of them on face to face like Altaïr could and the fools were none the wiser of her tactic.

There were none left for her to fight and she looked over to her husband, who was surrounded by them. She ran up behind one of them, driving her blade into the back of his neck, removing it and swiftly spinning to slice another in the back of his knee, causing him to fall the to ground as she drove the weapon straight into his heart.

She was running out of energy while Altaïr seemed fine, which brought her no surprise as this what he lived for. She walked away to grab the horses' reins so they wouldn't escape.

She turned to Altaïr, eyes widening as she saw an archer behind him, sights on her husband.

“Altaïr!” she exclaimed, throwing the dagger as accurately as possible toward the archer. But before the blade struck the archer in the chest, the arrow shot and it was soon very clear that Altaïr was not the intended target.

“Aaliyah!” Altaïr exclaimed, running to his wife. She held the arrow stuck in her chest, blood staining her clothes, “Habibti, do not touch it!” he told her, holding her hand as she tried to pull the arrow out.

She coughed up blood, looking into her husband's eyes, “A-Altaïr...” she muttered, falling back. He caught her, gently placing her in his lap and holding her in his arms.

“We must get you to a Doctor.” he told her, wrapping his arm under her knees to lift her up, but she put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

“Habibi...” she spoke, “I will not make it.” she told him, more blood being coughed up.

His eyes filled with tears, “Yes, you will! Stay with me, Aaliyah!”

“Take good care of Kamilah...is that understood?” she ordered him.

“We will take care of her together! You are strong! Do not give up! We must have another child! You promised me a son!” Altaïr refused to accept her words.

“I love you, Kamilah...” she whispered.

“Aaliyah!”

“I love you, Altaïr...Habibi...” she spoke, her trembling hand cupping his face.

He lightly held her hand against his face, “I love you, Aaliyah...please, do not leave me!”

“I will always be with you, Altaïr. Both you and Kamilah...right here,” she whispered through her trembling breath, her hand moving to his chest once more, his hand never letting its gentle grasp on hers go.

He lifted her up gently, kissing her bloodied mouth over and over again as her hand fell and he felt her breath on his lips; her last breath.

He shook from his silent cries as he pulled the arrow out before wrapping his arms around her, screaming as he held her still warm body in his arms. “Aaliyah!” he exclaimed through his gut-wrenching cries. He put her down, moving over to the dead archer, pulling the blade out and letting out a raging scream as he repeatedly stabbed the man's corpse, despite it bringing him no satisfaction but only more rage and furthering his attack on the corpse.

The body was completely mutilated by the time Altaïr was finished getting whatever revenge he could for Aaliyah's death before standing up and sheathing his blade, moving to his wife and gently picking her up. He hoisted her onto her horse, climbing onto the mare before fixing Aaliyah to lie properly in his arms, holding the reins of both horses as he made his way back to Masyaf in the dead silence.


	17. Haunted

Upon his return to Masyaf, the gates were opened as he carried his wife's corpse past the shocked guards. The eyes of everyone were on him, gasps being sounded and questions were asked by the villagers, but Altaïr had no reaction.

His path to Al Mualim passed by the area that their friends gathered in the afternoon during their free time and Malik called out to Altaïr. He stopped walking, but never turned around.

“Something is not right...” Malik spoke, causing the other three to get up and approach Altaïr as well. Farrah and Dania screaming upon seeing Aaliyah, the women holding each other and cupping Aaliyah's face, crying out as they felt the numbness of her lifeless body.

“What happened, Altaïr?” Malik asked, but Altaïr stayed in his silence. He hadn't made a sound since gutting the archer several hours ago.

Altair continued walking on, ignoring his friends as he continued his way to his Master. He laid Aaliyah's body before Al Mualim, the look of disdain on the old man's face lasted for only a moment.

“I see...” Al Mualim spoke gently, “We will arrange the necessities. Do as you wish for the time being.”

* * *

 

Altaïr spent all of his time with Kamilah in his bedroom, where his wife once laid with him. She would never sleep by his side again. He would never feel her warmth against him in the night. Her scent still lingered on the sheets and he thought of how much longer it would last.

She didn't want to leave. She was hesitant. He knew her instincts were a skill to be appreciated, yet he urged her to leave for Masyaf. If he'd listened to her, the entire situation could have taken a completely different turn.

Even more so, he could have told her to ride on to Masyaf without him. Why didn't he do that? Why did he make her fight? She'd never fought before and that was paid for with her life.

She tried to save him and let her guard down. He never taught her to always make sure she was safe first. He pondered on all the mistakes he'd made with her training. He never truly thought she would fight.

He smiled for a moment, remembering her tactic during the battle. She knew her strengths and weaknesses. This brought tears to his eyes and he cried out. It seemed that he was her biggest weakness in that moment.

His eyes closed, he felt Kamilah's small hands on his face, opening his eyes to see everything his daughter carried from her mother. Her lips and cheeks, her curly, golden brown hair.

“Omy? (Mom?)” Kamilah spoke.

Altaïr burst out in tears. He couldn't explain something like this to a baby. He almost lost Aaliyah to the sea, but in the end, he lost her to his unnecessary need for her to fight against the Templars. He put his duties as an Assassin before his duty as a father and husband and it cost Aaliyah her life.

He caused his daughter to become motherless.

* * *

 

Altaïr appeared emotionless during Aaliyah's burial in the garden: her favourite place and the only exception Al Mualim made for a burial, as he favoured her amongst all the other wives in the village.

He thought of the life they spent together. He remembered falling in love with her the moment his eyes found hers that day when they were merely children. He remembered being so nervous that he used Abbas as a means to communicate with her. He remembered her finally speaking to him one day under the tree after a day of hard training. He remembered helping her train in secrecy, as she wanted to be an Assassin, despite women not being permitted into the Brotherhood. He remembered their first kiss. He remembered their marriage, how beautiful she looked and how unworthy he felt to have someone like her betrothed to him. He remembered their first night together as husband and wife, just in their youth and so nervous yet so in love.

He remembered how things changed over time, what eventually led to his unfaithful acts. He remembered how she tested him to the very edge, making him beg for forgiveness for what he'd done to her. He remembered the love they made upon their reunion, gaining a daughter in the process. The beautiful baby girl that was sleeping in his arms, head rested on his shoulders.

He remembered the news of a second child, the fall just a few months later. He remembered having to tell her that the child was lost once she woke and the trouble she caused after, all the fights they'd gotten into like all those years before.

He remembered following her all the way to the ocean, where he almost lost her...just to stand there while her body was put into the ground before his eyes, in front of her favourite rose bush—white roses.

He handed Kamilah to Farrah and approached his wife resting next to the hole in the ground that she would soon be placed in. He picked one of the roses from the bush, not caring about the thorns piercing through his flesh and bent down, gently placing the rose in her hands before giving her a kiss on her cold lips.

He stood up and took his daughter, who was now awake. Kamilah cried and fought Altaïr to see her mother, but he couldn't do that to her. She was young enough that she would not remember this moment, but he still would not allow Kamilah to touch Aaliyah.

* * *

 

Altaïr's eyes fluttered open upon feeling a gentle hand on his face, seeing Aaliyah lying next to him.

“Altaïr...” he heard her say softly.

With that, he became wide awake, eyes opening completely and he jumped out of the bed, falling back into their bathing room and hitting his head on the floor.

Was he going crazy? Aaliyah was gone, yet she was just lying next to him. He was afraid to look at the bed where he just saw his deceased wife. He curled up on the bathroom floor, tears running from his eyes and he shook in his silent cry.

“Aaliyah...” he whispered back.

He stayed there, thinking of her beauty and her kind soul, keeping his eyes tightly shut from fear, eventually falling asleep.

This, however, wouldn't be the only incident he would have. It happened almost every night and he eventually gave in, as it meant he could see her once again. He knew it was only his memories somehow coming to life and causing him to be delusional, but nonetheless, he got to see his beautiful wife.

* * *

 

_**Two Years Later...** _

“Are you sure this is what you wish to do, Altaïr?” Malik asked the Assassin.

“Of course I do not wish for this, Malik. But i have no other choice. It is best for her. It has been two years since...” he spoke, not wanting to say the words, “Every day I look at her, my heart aches.”

“She is a part of you as well as Aaliyah. Do you not wish to keep her as close to you as possible?” he asked Altaïr.

“Do not question my decision.” Altaïr groaned, “This is not spontaneous. I have spent many nights in thought of this and I have decided that this is best for her.”

“And you can do this so simply?

“No. It will not be easy, but it is necessary. Not for myself, but for her.”

“Brother,” Malik spoke, putting his hand on Altaïr's shoulder, “You have my support.”

Altaïr looked at his friend, “Thank you, Brother.”

* * *

 

Kamilah cried and clung on to Altaïr as he tried to hand her over to the woman. His heart wrenched for what he was doing and to her reaction to the point where he was beginning to reconsider his decision. But he couldn't. He had to do this not for him, but more importantly, for her.

“Kamilah, habibti, please behave...”

She refused to let go of her father's robes, screaming out as he tried to pry her off of him. He held on to her, kissing her and calmed her down in his arms, holding her closely to him. Eventually, she fell asleep and he gave a kiss before handing her to the woman.

“We will take good care of her.” the man told Altaïr.

“I have certain wishes for her that I need you to respect,” Altaïr spoke, grabbing the couple's attention, pulling a book out from his robes, “Give this to her when she is of age. Do not force her into marriage, she will find her one. Do not rob her of her freedom, but protect her with your life.”

“We will honour your wishes, Altaïr.” the man nodded in agreement to the Assassin's words. The family turned and left. Altaïr stayed in place, watching as the family took his precious Kamilah with them.

“Goodbye, my beautiful Kamilah...”


	18. Origin [Bonus Chapter]

I was happy with the life I'd lived so far. I had a loving family who provided me with everything I had wanted. They did not force my into anything like they did to my older sister. I wondered why that was, but I had no complaints. I did not want to be pushed into a marriage, have children and be unhappy. I saw the roll it took on my sister at first and I wouldn't want that for anyone. I was free to do what I wanted for the most part, except for the odd regulations of this apparently rare emancipation.

I never suspected the illegitimacy of being their daughter until I noticed the difference between my family and I. The overwhelming realization that I looked nothing like my mother and father; not like my siblings had. Still, I did not say a single word to anyone regarding these thoughts.

I was completely torn on the day I found out that I was not truly part of my family. Yet, my siblings accepted me as if our mother had carried me in her womb: they saw me as one of them. My father loved me all the same. As for my mother, her love for me was the same, unconditional love she had for her own _real_ children. They all reassured me that I was still as much a part of them as I always had been and that I always will be.

Then, they handed me the _book_. The brown leather book with some sort of symbol pressed into the cover. "This is from your father," my father said, "Your true father." My eyes widened in shock as I held my shaking hands out to embrace the book within them.

"This does not chance you, Kamilah. Not in our eyes. You are a part of this family just as much as the rest of us and we love you deeply." my mother reassured me in tears.

I broke into tears. A part of me felt cast out in that very moment, as if my time of being loved and cared for by these people had abruptly come to its end. My feet carried me to my chambers as quickly as they could and I collapsed, screaming into my cushions as I didn't know how else to express the painful uncertainty of what had just occurred.

My parents. My Siblings. It was all a lie. They all knew and never told me. They just let me believe that I was another part of the family. They had me believe that my mother carried me in her womb when the truth was that I was given up by my own birth parents. My real mother and father did not even want the burden of my life, so they gave me up to these people, who raised me out of sympathy and pity.

How did I even come to be part of this family? Was I abandoned and either my mother, father or sister found me?

I needed to leave that place. I had to. How could I take advantage of what they'd given me any more than I already had? Yet, I stayed in my chambers for many days. I did not eat. I couldn't eat. At some point, they sent for my sister to come and speak with me. At least, that is what I assumed. She was the only one who could get through to me when I was saddened or frustrated.

"Kamilah, have you even read the book given to you?" she asked and I looked at the beautiful item cradled in my arms. I did not. "Kamilah, speak to me, please." she begged. I said not a word. She lied down with me, holding me and I cried into her embrace. "I cannot imagine your pain. You are my sister and I hurt to see you like this. Truly, this does not change anything for us, Kamilah."

I stood up and looked at her, "Liar!" I burst out, "You are all liars! You raised me out of pity! You raised me because I was just some small child whose own parents couldn't love me enough to—"

"Do _not_ accuse us of such horrid things! Have we not shown you love and care?" she asked. I could feel the pain in her voice from my words. "How could you think that it was only a pitiful love? Do you _truly_ believe that my love for you is just compassion? Or that your birth parents did not love you? A book handed to our mother and father so it could be given to you at the right time does _not_ indicate loveless parents." she defended not only her own family, but my real parents as well. She reached over and embraced me once more, holding my face in her hands afterwards, "Read the book, Kamilah. I am sure your answers are within." she said and walked toward the door, turning around for a moment, "And _please_ , eat something. You look awful." she suggested and with that, she was gone.

I could not bear the thought of food. I had absolutely no appetite. Instead, I picked up the book and look at the cover. I looked at the enticing emblem pressed into the leather for several moments before opening up to the first page.

 _To my beautiful and precious daughter, Kamilah._ It read. I slammed it shut for a moment and took a deep breath before opening it back up, staring at the name curiously.

 _Altaïr Ibn-La_ ’ _Ahad._

* * *

 

I was born in a village called Masyaf. I came from a line of those who fought for peace amongst mankind, known as the _Assassins_ , who waged war against those who called themselves _Templars—_ those who fought to enslave all others. My father, Altaïr, was an outstanding Assassin. He was the most skilled and highly trained in the art of silently taking a life. As gruesome a thought as it was, a part of me felt proud. A pride for my father, that he stood up for what he believed in: _freedom_.

My mother, Aaliyah, was married to my father at fifteen years of age, as most girls are married once becoming women, or are at least betrothed to someone—usually at the sign of womanhood. My mother was promised to Altaïr by her own father and the one known as the 'Master', Al Mualim. The marriage was carried through once her father had passed, since she had little stability when her father lost his life.

My father said he loved her very much, long before they had even learnt of the arrangement; even though he was supposed to show nothing but loyalty to Al Mualim. She used to follow him around, or watch him train from afar and they rarely ever spoke to each other if at all. They used to spend several moments staring at each other before one of them broke the gaze. He said there was something about her he could never get over; that he wanted her to be his when she became of age. He admitted to being excited about being the one chosen for her, though he didn't express it to anyone except for his good friend, Malik Al-Sayf. However, over the course of time after their marriage, he became cruel to her for many years, causing her to flee from him when he threatened her life in a fit of anger one day. He learnt of her sudden disappearance upon his return and immediately followed her tracks from multiple cities before finding her. It was then that he confessed to his infidelity and pleaded for her forgiveness.

They became stronger once they returned to Masyaf and from their reconciliation, I was born. Then, there was a second child on the way. The child, however, did not survive. My mother had fallen down the stairs in the Masyaf Castle. It tore my parents apart, hardly ever speaking or seeing each other. One day after the incident, she left me with Malik and his wife, Farrah, and ran away once more. My father wasted no time in finding her again.

But...upon finding her once more to return with her to Masyaf, my parents were attacked by a group of Templars and my mother lost her life. My father gave me to my parents a couple of years later.

 

They became stronger once they returned to Masyaf and from their reconciliation, I was born. Then, there was a second child on the way. The child, however, did not survive. My mother had slipped down the stairs in the Masyaf Castle, losing her footing. It tore my parents apart, hardly ever speaking or seeing each other. One day after the incident, she left me with Malik and his wife, Amani, and ran away once more. My father wasted no time in finding her again.

But, upon returning to Masyaf yet again, my parents were attacked by a group of Templars…and my mother lost her life. My father gave me to my parents a couple of years later.

* * *

 

I reconciled with my parents. I understood that it was not as I thought it had been. I understood that they accepted me with arms wide open and carried out my father's wishes. It is why I was not forced into a marriage and had so much freedom.

With permission, my parents arranged for me to visit Masyaf. it was a long and tedious journey, involving hiding many times to ensure my own safety. I was given weapons, of course, should I need to defend myself. I was taught basic swordsmanship, just enough to help myself if needed. I was encouraged to remember that fighting was in my blood and despite my innocence, my instincts would keep me alive. Still, I was sent with a couple of our guards for protection.

I was lucky enough to not have to fight during my journey. It resonated in my mind that I was travelling the same path that brought my birth mother's death so unexpectedly. Nevertheless, I'd finally made it. I stood in front of the massive gate sealing the village off from the rest of the world. There were two guards in front of me. Before proceeding to try and get past them, I opened the book once more.

_I close this book as a chance to move on. I loved your mother more than words could possibly ever express, my daughter. I am sorry that I did not take care of you. I do not want you to feel as if I did not want you in my life. You had stayed with me for a couple of years before I gave you to your family. Know that I did so in order for you to have a better life. I could not take seeing your beautiful face. Knowing that I could not protect your mother, I felt as if I was not worthy enough to have you. I did not have the right to care for you if I could not care for your mother. I love you, Kamilah, my precious daughter. Perhaps our paths will cross once more some day._

"Who goes there?" one of the guards asked. I froze in place for a moment, closing the book. What should I say?

"I am Kamilah Ibn-La'Ahad. I am the daughter of Altaïr and Aaliyah." I said confidently, hoping that i would grant me access to the village.

The guards looked at each other for a moment before turning their sight back to me. "Proceed" one of them said, and they began opening the gate. I nodded and thanked them with a small smile as I walked through the giant wooden doors.

I calmly walked through the village, observing everything in sight. I wondered wht had changed since I'd left. Then again, I hardly remembered anything about this place. Despite feeling the sense of familiarity, I couldn't made the connection to my past. The only thing I knew was that I felt some unexpected comfort as I slowly tried to make my way to the castle.

It didn't take long for the uncertainty and nervousness to slowly begin coursing through me, like the light suddenly hitting the earth upon the sun's rise and intensifying over time. What was I going to say when and if I saw my father? How would I even know it was him? I decided that asking someone for help would be the best option.

"Excuse me, I am here to visit Altaïr. Where may I find him?" I asked a man with one arm. He looked at me with a rather shocked expression upon his face, staying silent.

"Are you alright?" I asked, unsure if I'd said something to upset him.

"S-sorry...he's...he's..."

"My apologies. Is there something that is wrong? Do you need any assistance?" I asked, getting quite concerned.

"I will take you." he abruptly said.

I smiled, "Are you sure? I would appreciate that very much."

"Of course." he said, still staring at me before we began to walk.

I did not want him helping me to be uncomfortable for either us, so I decided to start a small conversation, "What is your name?" I asked him.

He let out a small laugh, "Do you not remember me, Kamilah?" he asked.

I was taken back, not just by his question, but mostly because he knew my name, "How do you know my name?"

"My wife, Farrah, and I cared for you on some occasions. Your mother spent a lot of time with her."

"You are Malik Al-Sayf." I stated and he nodded in response.

"Farrah is elsewhere at this moment. My brother, Kadar, passed away and his wife, Dania, is hardly seen anymore. They would both love to see you. They were very close friends of your mother, after all."

"I understand why you seemed so surprised when I approached you, now." I smiled.

"Yes," he admitted, "To be honest, I thought that I would never see you again. We were all torn the day you were given to your family. You were the child of Masyaf, loved by all. I recognize your face. You look like Aaliyah, but your eyes are Altaïr's."

I felt a warm comfort upon those words, hearing that I looked so much like my mother, "What is his life like now?" I asked, not feeling the need to elaborate that I was asking about my father.

"He is the Master, now. He is married with some children."

"I see." i said, unsure of going through with this reunion. If he was happy with his life, why should I come back into it once more? I felt like my presence would disrupt his peace.

"He has not forgotten you or your mother, Kamilah." he reassured me. Perhaps he sense my uncertainty.

"Thank you." I said with a smile, grateful for his compassion.

Finally arriving, he led me up the stairs to my father's desk. Malik made me feel confident and that no matter what I say, my father would accept me once more with open arms. I thanked Malik and watched him walk away for several moments before turning my gaze to my father, who was standing and looking out of the large window. I pulled up the hood to cover my face. Despite Malik's reassuring words, I wanted to see for myself if they would be true.

"M-Master Altaïr." I spoke nervously, hearing the tremble in my own voice.

"Yes?" he replied, walking toward the desk. He didn't meet my gaze, but rather looked at items laid out on the table in front of us. I was only able to assume this by his hand touching some of the items.

"I bring news of Kamilah." I said simply.

"What of her? Does she live? Is she well?" he asked quickly. I will not deny it: the concern in his voice brought a smile to my lips.

"Yes, she lives." I reassured him.

"How is she?" he asked.

I decided to not make him wait any longer. I removed my hood and lifted my head to meet his eyes, "I am good, father." I spoke gently.

His eyes widened as he looked at me, "Kamilah..."

Hearing him say my name with relief and awe in his voice brought warmth to my heart. My father was happy to see me. I did not know what to do. It would seem that I didn't have to think, as my body took control and ran into his arms, wrapping my own around him tightly with my face buried into his robes, "Father..." I spoke with a shaky voice as he embraced me. I did not understand this feeling of comfort with him. I'd just met him for the first time that I knew of, yet I felt such safety.

"My daughter..." he said and I looked up at him, "How did you find me?" he asked, tears escaping his eyes.

"The book you gave to me, father." I said, taking it out and handing it to him. He looked at the cover as he held it for a while, his fingers running down the pressed emblem before handing it back to me.

"You have grown up so beautifully. You look just like your mother." he said, smiling as he gently cupped my cheek. I wiped away the tears that were blurring my vision, "Come, let us sit and talk." he offered, leading me to a beautiful garden on the opposite side of the castle entrance, where my mother was buried in front of a white rose bush. I'd never seen flowers so beautiful and they too became my favourite flower. He clipped one of the roses from the bush and took out the thorns, handing it to me.

We spoke for many hours, telling each other of our lives and what we had planned for the future. I had no official plans. I had only become of age not too long ago. The world had just opened up for me. He planned to continue leading the Assassins in the right direction.

I asked him many questions about my mother: what she was like, how she dressed, what colour her hair and eyes were. I wish I knew her. He later showed me a few pictured that he had drawn of her, one whilst she was sleeping. She was breathtaking. He allowed me to take one of the pictures and I chose the one of her sitting in the garden, holding a flower. I would cherish it for the rest of my days.

I learnt that I inherited my love for reading and adventures from him, my love for exotic clothing and sewing coming from my mother. These things that I had thought were just little aspects of my own personality had, in reality, come from my parents.

He told me that he was the cause of Kadar losing his life and Malik losing his arm. It was a situation where he acted supreme and irrational, resulting harm to his closest friend and cost the life of another. As punishment for his actions, he was stripped of his rank back down to what they called a 'novice', which Malik jeered him for every chance that he got. He had to start all over again: a journey of redemption, proof that he had the right to carry the title of a 'Master Assassin'. It was during this time that he met a woman named Maria Thorpe—a Templar, who he developed feelings for during a journey later on and eventually made her his wife. She gave birth to my brothers, Sef and Darim.

I met Maria. She was a lovely lady and harboured no hatred for me. Rather, she accepted me and welcomed me to be a part of their lives. She and my father wanted me to come back more often so i could meet my brothers. I would have loved to meet them and accepted their offer.

When I met Farrah and Dania, they would not let me out of their arms. They cried and held on to me, explaining how much I looked like my mother, which i seemed to get from everyone that knew her. They told me that my father used to stop his teachings to play with me and that my mother used to dress me in the most unusual clothing, placing flowers in my hair and making fresses for me to parade around the village in. I lived like a princess and was treated like one by all of the villagers, just like Malik had mentioned earlier.

My father cried. "We could have rode away, but my duty to eliminate those Templars overcame my duty as a husband and a father. It was my biggest mistake," he explained, "Ever since her burial, I have been haunted by her face. It frightened me the first night, but I got used to it eventually. it doesn't happen as often anymore, but I cherish the moments that they do. Maria does not hold this against me and I am grateful for that, but I know I do not deserve to see her beautiful face again."

"Do not be harsh on yourself, father. Be grateful that you have an understanding wife that reassures you about your guilt for my mother's death." I smiled and he looked at me.

"Your confidence and reassurance...you have become so much like your mother. I am glad that you did not take by my own nature, Kamilah."

"But I did. Of course I did," I said with a smile, "and I am grateful for what part of you I have with me."

"My daughter," he said, placing a hand on my cheek, "Come, it is getting late. We should rest. I will have a place prepared for you for the night."

"Thank you, father." I said gratefully.

He had my chambers prepared for the night and returned to me, "I was looking for you," he spoke, "You truly are like I am." he smiled, looking at the bookshelves, "I used to hide here when your mother was upset with me, or when I had complaints and spoke to Malik."

"These books are truly fascinating." I said in awe. I wanted to read them all, but I knew I never could. I would enjoy them while I had the chance. I was interested in the history of the Assassins and Templars, voicing that I would love to learn more of them.

He showed me to my chambers so that I knew of its location, but let me return to the library and indulge myself in the books I was so intrigued by, recommending a few to me.

I rested very little that night despite my better judgement. I spent most of my time reading about the Assassins and Templars, learning many things that I had no idea was going on even in my own city of Jerusalem. It made me wonder if I had actually ever seen my father before and never realized it, as I didn't even know of his existence until recently; or if he'd seen me and if so, why he didn't approach me. I suppose it was a matter of me having a better life and if he saw me, he left me to live in the blissful ignorance he created for me.

When the sun began to rise, I met my father at his desk. I had to return to Jerusalem as my parents said, but I did not want to. The short time I had spent with him would be one I would never forget. I felt at home. Perhaps it was because I spent my first four years of life in this place. But it was not my home, no. My home was with my mother and father, who raised me and loved me all the same. I was at peace to know that I was loved elsewhere. I was at peace to know that I was not given up simply because I was unwanted. I was given to a beautiful family so that I could have a life that my father felt I deserved.

At the gates, I said goodbye to Malik, Farrah and Dania before I embraced my father, crying into his robes and holding on to him.

"This is just like ten years ago," Farrah cried and Malik held her.

"You did this to me when you were given to your mother and father." he said, his voice cracking.

"Did what?" I asked through my cries.

"You held on to me, refusing to let go and crying for your dear little life. You clung on to my robes, pulling on it when either your mother or father tried to take you, tearing a part of my heart out with each pull. I had to hold you and wait until you fell asleep before handing you to them." he explained, tears flowing down his face as he relived the memory of our separation.

"I love you, father!" I cried erratically. I didn't fully understand how I could become so saddened by leaving this place.

My father tightened his embrace, "I love you, Kamilah. That will  _never_ change," he comforted me. once he let me go, he wiped my tears away and gave me a kiss on my forehead, "You do not want to miss much time for your journey ahead." he reminded me, walking me to my horse as I was hesitant to move. When I was upon it, I bent over, giving him a kiss on his forehead in return.

He sent a couple of Assassins with me to ensure I made it back to Jerusalem safely and I was grateful for his concern. As I reigned my horse into a gentle gallop, I looked back at him for several moments before turning around to head home with the guards surrounding me for protection.

* * *

 

Upon arrival, I told my family about my visit. I told them about my mother's tragic fate and what led my father to hand me to them. I told them about meeting my mother and father's closest friends, who were mentioned in the book, not bringing up Kadar's death. I did not feel as if telling them about the nature of my father's work was a good discussion, albeit they were already aware.

I carried on with my life happily, sending letters to my father and receiving a few in return. I took up the business of making and selling beautiful clothing. This is how I eventually met an Assassin who I fell in love with and married. I had given birth to our first child within the first year of our marriage: to our daughter, Aaliyah, who is two years of age now. Perhaps we will have more one day. For now, it is just us three and I am happy with the life I've lived so far.

I have not seen my father since.


End file.
